


Autumn Leaves

by sonderesque



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Ambiguous Relationships, Cute, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotions, Fluff, Hurt Keith (Voltron), I Don't Even Know, I Tried, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, M/M, Normal Life, Slow Burn, ish, not really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-07 23:45:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 45,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12242955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonderesque/pseuds/sonderesque
Summary: A story in which Lance takes Keith on a journey to find beauty in all that is around him.Based on Inktober prompts





	1. Wake

Keith wakes up in stages, just like how one may fall in love.

 

 

First, he opens his eyes. His vision is blurry, but after a few blinks, the world becomes clearer to him. His eyelids are still heavy though, ready to close at a moment's notice. Next, he begins to register the warmth of the bed. Keith is still too lazy to get up, so he relishes the coziness under cotton sheets.  


Someone else shifts beside him, pulling the blankets towards themselves.

It doesn’t take him long to realize who it is.  


There really is no surprise that Lance is a blanket hog. Maybe that’s why he just radiates warmth. Keith has to fight the urge to snuggle up closer to him. Their legs are tangled under the covers and their arms are touching. He pulls away the arm that isn’t cushioning his head to rest on Lance’s hip, where the t-shirt is slightly raised to reveal a strip of tanned skin about his sweatpants’ band.

Keith begins to drift off, but Lance moves again, turning to look over at him.  


“Hmm… G’morning,” he says, smiling sleepily.

The other male flushes red. “T-thanks. ‘Morning to you too.”

Lance laughs and squeezes his hand before rolling out of bed. “That’s too cute.”

“I’m not cute-!” Keith protests.

“Yeah you are,” Lance grins, leaning over to ruffle his bed hair. He smushes his face into the pillow. “Now come on, time for breakfast.”

 

* * *

 

This is not a one night stand, which most might believe it is.

 

Pidge and Hunk once walked into Lance’s apartment and started screeching like heathens when they walked in to Lance and Keith sleeping together. Hunk was whimpering like a dog and Pidge was taking pictures, telling the two to put on some clothes. Keith remembers Lance mumbling for them to shut up. It had taken twenty minutes to explain their weird relationship.

Lance and Keith sometimes sleep in the same bed. It’s as simple as that really. There’s nothing dirty about it. Sure, the first time it happened was weird, but it isn’t Keith’s fault that Lance’s place is so much closer to the bar. Now, he would just show up and have a sleepover, no questions asked.  


Now that Keith thinks about it though, this is far too dangerous. He’s teetering on the edge of the point beyond return, and with one misstep, it could all come crashing down around him. Is he willing to let the past few weeks of something so wonderful and uncomplicated be destroyed because he just couldn’t help himself, because he always has the misfortune of ruining the things around him?

He thinks about this as he tidies Lance’s bed. He thinks about this as he pulls on his pants and puts on his socks. He thinks about this as he trudges into the washroom to wash his face and brush his teeth with the toothbrush Lance gave him after the first three days. He thinks about this as he pulls his mullet into a low ponytail, and continues to ask himself when he grabs one of Lance’s sweaters that is draped on a chair.

 

No. Keith does not want to taint Lance with his dysfunctionality.  

 

So, he leaves without telling him.

Or well, he tries to at least.

 

* * *

 

Beyonce blasts in the kitchen as Lance wriggles his hips while making an omelette. Keith can hear him muttering something under his breath, silently betting that it’s just the lyrics. He always did have the habit of belting out random words, but he might just be keeping it down for him. A fond smile stretches across his lips, before fading just as fast. He needs to get out of there before Lance notices.

 

Keith tiptoes across the open apartment with no place he could possibly hide behind. Maybe this plan is a bit more compromised than he originally thought. He makes it as far as to get one shoe on before Lance whirls around to put the eggs on the two plates on his tiny counter.  


They both freeze, staring at each other.  


“What the fuck are you doing Keith?” Lance asks. His face is expressionless, which sets alarm bells off in Keith’s head. There it is- the fuck up he expected out of himself.

“I- I need to go,” he stutters.

Lance raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “You’ve never left early. And plus, I didn’t think that you would be the type to leave without at least telling me.”

Keith grimaces. “Look, I’m sorry, but I just can’t-”

He sets the pan down and turns off the music. Keith is starting to get fidgety. Confrontations were never his thing. It’s just much easier to run away from your problems.

“Just tell me your reason Keith. The _real_ one, and we can be done if you want to,” Lance says, way too seriously for such a goofball like him. He’s supposed to be smiling and laughing, not looking like this- like he’s shutting himself off.  


Keith needs to fix this, and fast.  


_“I’mjustscaredokay.”_ It comes out all in one breath

“Of what?” Lance frowns.

He sighs. “I’m going to fuck this up, and you’re going to hate me, and I don’t want that, so I’m just going to leave before I find a way to taint you. I guess beauty is just averse to me.”  


Lance goes around the kitchen and walks over to Keith. He braces himself for a slap, but he’s startled to find that Lance is hugging him. His embrace is warm and gentle, comforting Keith’s high strung self. He tentatively returns the hug, resting loosely at Lance’s hips.

They stay there for several moments.  


“Beauty is in everything Keith. One mistake isn’t going to push that away. Beauty is drawn to you,” Lance says quietly, fingers brushing away stray hairs at the nape of Keith’s neck. “Plus,” There’s teasing in his voice. “Look at me, I’m beautiful and we’re still here together aren’t we?”

Keith rolls his eyes. “Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night,” he drawls, pulling away.

Lance still holds onto him, even as he steps out of their hug. “Just stay and trust me okay? It’ll be worth it I swear.”

He nods hesitantly. “Okay fine… but, I can’t promise to not be flighty.”

Lance lets go of Keith. “As long as you don’t leave me, we’ll be okay.”  


Keith smiles at him, grateful for his patience.  


“Plus, how dare you leave before you have my famous omelette? If you don’t want it, I’m going to eat it all,” he says, strutting back to the kitchen with a sway in his hips.

“Fatass,” Keith retorts, pulling off his shoe.

“Is that ‘go ahead’ I’m hearing?” Lance puts a hand to his ear.

“Fuck off. Those are mine.”  


Laughter and music fills the kitchen.

 

  
Gone is the sleepiness, and here is the clarity of a beautiful morning.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I wrote a note at the end of this one. Seriously wtf. Oh well. This is my first Voltron fic, and honestly, you can totally tell how deep someone is into a fandom if they write a fanfic, if they write more content, for a series. (Hello Voltron Hell, seems nice down here).
> 
> 13 Days Until Season Four!!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed :))


	2. River

Lance is a very spontaneous little shit, which makes it very hard for Keith to ever guess what the fuck he’s going to do next. The only thing he does know, is that it’s either going to be really, really stupid, or some sort of genius that borders on infuriatingly charming. This is the reason why Lance keeps most things a surprise, just so Keith doesn’t have a chance to back out of it. That’s how most adventures go with him anyways.  
  


So when Lance tells him to get in his car without telling him where they’re going, Keith reluctantly follows his demands.  
  


There are usually three things he brings with him on these excursions- one of Lance’s ratty flannels (which Lance swears is too small for him, but they both know that he just wants to see Keith in his clothes), his fully charged phone in case Lance, who has the bad habit of letting his phone die and misplacing it, gets them lost, and a Swiss Army knife for if and when they get stuck in a dangerous situation. Again, Lance has brought him on some pretty ridiculous trips. Better safe than sorry.  
  


* * *

 

  
“Lance, where the hell are we going?” Keith asks, for probably the ninth time in a row

“Y’know, sometimes you're even on par with how annoying Pidge can get when she wants something,” Lance says, tapping the steering wheel to the low music in the car.

Keith scoffs. “Are you absolutely sure about that statement? Pidge gets what she wants when she says she wants it. You haven't even dropped a spoiler as to where we’re going.”

“I'm not giving you the satisfaction of that knowledge, mostly because you really do need to work on your deduction skills.” Lance flashes him a small grin, to which Keith wrinkles his nose.

“Wow, that's rude,” Keith grumbles. 

Lance merely shrugs. “I mean, what do you expect… Oh, we’re here.” He pulls up onto a small stopover on the road, surrounded by red and orange trees. “Turns out you didn't need to wait that long after all.”  
  


Keith opens his door and steps out, looking at the collection of different trees and plants of various colours before him. A childlike sense of wonder fills him as he begins to walk towards a dirt path in front of him.  
  


“Wait up, man! I just need to grab my camera!” Lance hollers from behind him.

“Hurry up!!” Keith exclaims impatiently, adrenaline beginning to pump in his system. He just wants to go and be free. It's absolutely gorgeous.  
  


Two beeps come from the car, signalling that it is now locked. Gravel crunches as Lance walks towards him.  
  


“Stay right there,” Lance says, holding the camera to his face.  


“There are leaves falling on me,” Keith protests, trying to bat them away from his face. 

Lance laughs. “That's the point dumbass. It's what we millennials call  _ ‘aesthetic _ .’” 

Keith rolls his eyes, but stays still anyways. “I'm not stupid, Lance. I may have an outdated sense of style, but I still do count as a millennial.”

“I refuse to believe that. You will alway be an old soul in a young body,” Lance retorts, taking several photos.

“You done?” Keith asks, feeling him touch his hair. 

“Yep, just taking out some leaves,” Lances says, gentle hand raking through Keith’s hair. After he finishes up, he hip bumps the other male. “Let's go.”

Keith shoves his hands in the jacket pockets. “ _ You're _ the one that took so long.”

“That was five minutes stops. Stop whining,” Lance retorts with no malice in his tone.

“Those better be some good photos then,” Keith responds gruffly.

He winked. “Babe, you're almost as aesthetic as I am.”

“Almost-?” Keith splutters. 

“ _ Photographer _ .” Lance points to himself. “ _ Model _ .” He points to Keith. “I take the photos and you just listen because I can make you whatever I want.”

Keith raises an eyebrow. “Did you just subtly call me pretty?”

“Huh?” Lance asks, clearly confused.

“Models are pretty.” He shrugs.

Lance can't help but correct him. “No, models are  _ hot _ . Get it right.” He only catches his mistake after the words leave his mouth. Lance flushes slight red, matching the colours of the trees around them.

“Aw, look, you blend right it,” Keith coos teasingly. 

“Oh shut up.” Lance smacks in the arm.

 

Keith just laughs.

 

* * *

 

Let's just get this straight (or at least, as straight as he can)- Keith is a person who likes his warmth and fire. 

That's not to say he's averse to water, because jacuzzis, showers, and soaks are fantastic (public anything is crossed out because who the  _ hell _ likes to deal with people?), but anything beyond that is immediately suspicious,  _ especially _ when Lance is around.

 

“ _ Oh look at this mysterious path. I wonder where it might lead us today? _ ” Lance says in a purposely terrible acting voice. 

“You could have just said that you wanted to go down this trail, instead of resorting to awful delivery of clearly practiced lines,” Keith responds flatly, unamused with Lance’s efforts.

Lance nudges an elbow into his side. “Lighten up. I'm just messing with you.”

Keith hisses. “You're so fucking bony. What the hell?”

“Pfft, and you called me a fatass. I'm just naturally skinny. Can't help genetics.” Lance shrugs, snapping another candid photo of Keith as he walks backward down the path. 

“You’re an actual twig I swear…” Keith trails off as they break past some bushes and into a clearing by a river. “Whoa…”  
  


Lance goes ahead of him and sits on a large rock, taking off his shoes and socks. He lets the camera sit around his next, not planning to take it off.

Keith can't help but ogle the picturesque sight of such crystal clear water with banks lined with smooth stones and draped with the outstretched branches of the trees, almost as if it's protecting the river. This gem is almost entirely hidden from any greedy human hands, and in a way, Keith feels humbled to have been able to see such a wonder.  
  


“How'd you find this place?” Keith murmured, trying to preserve this memory in his mind. 

“I went biking once to clear my head and I didn't notice how far out I was until I almost passed out where we parked. I kinda just followed the trail, and I go here whenever I feel like I'm in need of some peace or something along those lines. I feel like I'm being cleansed here. It's pretty much a sacred place for me,” Lance says off-handedly, pulling the bottom of his pants up as he dipped his feet in the water.

Keith feels a throb in his heart. “And you're choosing to share this with me out of all people?”

Lance looks at him with one eye closed. “Well yeah, I am.”

“Why?” Keith asks.

Lance shrugs. “Because I feel like it? Because I trust you? Does it really matter?”  
  


__ It does to him.  
  


“No, I guess not,” Keith says in resignation.  
  


He looks up at the sky, pausing.  
  


“I wanted to share my special place with you because you mean a lot to me, mkay?” Lance answers his question, not looking at him.

“Well, you mean a lot to me too…” Keith mutters quietly.  


 

Lance smiles softly. “That's special. It's coming from you after all.”  


 

* * *

 

“Also what the fuck. Are you insane? Why would you bike from your apartment to this place. It literally took us thirty minutes to get here. What is that, like three hours?” Keith asks, perched on top of a rock beside Lance’s.

“In my defense, I was super distracted,” Lance says unconvincingly.

Keith frowns. “That's not a valid excuse! You just happened to be able to bike for that long without dying?” he protests.

“A, I'm not as weak as you think I am,” Lance holds up a finger, “And B, this is a peaceful, non-judgemental environment.” He holds up the second one.

“Point A is barely scraping by. Point B is bullshit. This is not a yoga studio, Lance. We're in the woods, where animals take a shit wherever they feel like it. For all you know, you could be soaking your feet in where they pissed,” Keith retorts, finding a satisfaction in serving Lance the blunt truth.

Now it's Lance’s turn to wrinkle his nose. “Ew, Keith, why are you like this? Now I'm questioning my life decisions.”

“I'm just telling you the truth-” Keith gets cut off as Lance cups some water in his hands and throws it Keith. “Hey!”

“Take some of that piss water you were speaking off,” he says, grinning mischievously.  


 

_ “Laaannnnccceeeeee!!!” _

 

* * *

 

Needless to say, Keith isn't very happy when ice-cold  _ ‘therapy’ _ water drenches his shirt and flannel. His pants stay relatively safe, although there are still wet patches where Lance decided to throw dripping stones at his legs. His hair is soaked too, and in revenge, he smushed his face on Lance’s dry shirt, before splashing him too.  


This therapy water better be bleaching all his problems, or else he's going to yell,  _ very loudly _ , probably to Lance’s stupidly good looking face.  


Lance wrings out the water from their soggy clothes, and Keith lays them out to dry on a sunny rock. It doesn't take too long. When they finish up, Lance decides to go through the photos while Keith skips stones on the water.  
  


“Hey Lance?”

“Hm?” He responds distractedly.

Keith throws a rock, skipping twice before sinking. “What was the point of this trip?”

Lance lowers his camera. “I'm going to show you beautiful things in life, to prove that there is always something enchanting and captivating out there, and that there's no need for you to be scared about messing up.” 

Keith drops the stone in his hand. “Wait what?”

“I'm going teach you how to appreciate the beauty in everything, or at the very least, acknowledge that it is beautiful,” Lance says seriously.

“Well, then what is it right now?” Keith manages to ask through his slight surprise at how much this affected Lance.

“As I see it, there’s beauty in the river, although I might be a little biased.” Lance shrugs sheepishly.

“That's true, but beauty is objective,” Keith contradicts Lance. “Personally I think the trees are my favourite. Anything solid and has warm hues really.”

He takes that into consideration. “Okay then, here’s my conclusion. There's beauty in simple things, like nature for example.”  
  


Keith hums in agreement with that statement, but he isn't looking at the towering trees, splashed with vibrant reds, oranges, yellows and some straying green. Nor is he looking at the beautiful sky blue as the clouds drift by, or even the clear water, with its varying shades of grey shifting underwater, stones glistening as some sun rays bounced off it.

 

Even with all the nature around him, his eyes are locked on Lance’s shifting blue eyes.

 

 

_ “Yeah, it's beautiful.” _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pfft, fluff and humour. Now that's a fun combination. 
> 
> I'm crying- 11 more days until the airing of season 4  
> Hope you enjoyed!! Comments, kudos, etc are always appreciated :)


	3. Depart

Keith is familiar with the unfamiliar.

 

Sometimes, even goodbyes do not escape the mouths of passing faces. For someone who was left on the doorstep of an orphanage as a baby, he never expected to anything to stay, to become a permanent fixture in his life. He’s been ripped out of so many families that leaving became just another pattern.

When is Keith was finally old enough to live on his own, he moved out of his foster family’s home and into a crappy run down apartment. Starting fresh yet again at a massive university meant that he was thrust into another set of foreign situations. He managed to pull through and finish a year before he dropped out. Keith didn’t enjoy the course he was taking and student loans just didn’t seem worth all the trouble really. University was just filled with sleepless nights and ridiculous assignment loads.

 

If anything, the best thing he got out of it was meeting Lance for the first time.

 

Lance had accidentally hit on him, thinking that he was a girl. Looking back, Keith thought it was a pretty entertaining origin story, especially since it gave him a chance to bother Lance about something he could never, ever live down. In apology, Lance took him out for coffee and the rest just flowed from there. 

This is another unknown expedition. Lance is Keith’s first genuine friend. He is the first permanent fixture in his life (that lasted for more than a year, which is quite a low standard already). Lance had managed to get Keith to open up more, and he still is helping Keith discover so many new things. Lance became his guide, a torch through the alien lands he ventured.

The unfamiliar became something less dark and something draped in soft fairy lights, welcoming and inviting.

 

It beckons to Keith.

 

* * *

 

Soft grass tickles Keith’s neck as he lays down on lush green offset by the browning leaves scattered around them. It falls as the chilly wind shakes the trees clean. Lance stretches out comfortably like a starfish beside him. His fingertips brush Keith’s upper arm and he can’t tell if the goosebumps are from the cold or from Lance’s touch.

 

“I could totally take a nap here,” Lance says blissfully, eyes drooping a little as he brings an arm underneath his head to cushion it.

Keith kicks off his shoes, white socks digging into the grass.“The weather is probably a notch warmer than my apartment to be honest.”

“Your apartment is freezing all year round. It’s kind of a thing. Why do you think I crashed at your place during the summer?” Lance responds lazily.

“‘Cause you obviously enjoy my company?” Keith shoots back.

Lance hums. “Eh, I guess…”

Keith punches him in the shoulder. “You’re so mean.”

“You’ll survive.” He snickers.

“Asshole,” Keith mutters.

“Only to you,” Lance says sweetly back, which only serves to exasperate the other male.

Keith pokes him in the side. “Just wonderful.”

Lance rolls away, giggling hysterically. He could only stare back, startled at his reaction. “Are you… ticklish?” Keith asks, holding back his own laughter.

“Pfft, no-  _ whaaatttt?” _

He grinned evilly. “Oh my god, this is perfect.”

Lance raises his hands in surrender, eyes wide open. “Don’t- I swear Keith…  _ Keith!!” _

Keith dives forward, pinning Lance down. “Too bad bitch.”

 

Cue the high pitched screaming.

 

* * *

 

“I hate you so much.” It comes out in pants as Lance catches his breath. Small puffs of smoke escapes his lips from the cold air, vanishing as fast as they appear. His back and forehead are coated in a fine sheen of sweat.

“No, you don’t,” Keith says in huffs.

Lance shrugs, accepting this as his truth. “No, I really don’t.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Keith- Keith, look at that!!” Lance yells in his ear.  
  


He jerks awake, flailing wildly. “What the fuck Lance?! What the hell do you want?”

Lance points up at a flock of birds, black against the ashy sky. They squawk loudly as their haphazard arrow becomes more uniform. “Look, they’re migrating now!”

Keith rubs his eyes. “What’s so special about that?”

“Come on you pessimist. It can’t be  _ that _ hard to find something nice about it,” Lance says, trying to encourage him in the classic Lance(y)-way.

He stretches like a cat, and blinks blankly at Lance. “I don’t really know what type of response you’re looking for. They’re leaving. Doesn’t that bring some sort of bittersweet feeling in your mouth? They just leave over and over again. It can’t be that amazing.”

Lance furrows his eyebrows. “Are you okay?”

Keith wants to smack himself. “Sorry, I’m just projecting. Don’t mind me.”

He nods. “ I got it. If you want, I can tell you why I think it’s so amazing.”

“Go ahead then.” Keith waves a hand in the air, signalling for Lance to continue.

Lance keeps his eyes glued to the sky, even as they leave his field of vision. “It’s hard to believe that they can fly for so long without getting lost. Even if they struggle in the beginning to stay in shape, they always come back to that same shape. These birds go back and forth in order to survive. They’re drawn to the warmth.” 

He looks over at Keith, who just gives him a thin smile. “They might all be separate birds, but they act like a hive mind. There’s even a chance of them gaining up a family on that journey. My favourite part is how although they might not return to the exact same place they once were, they still come back here time and time again.”

“I once told you I’m flighty…” Keith recalls his words he had said in Lance’s apartment.

“Birds travel in flocks, and you have us, don’t you?” Lance says, looking at him hopefully. “Leaving isn’t a goodbye; it’s a new beginning, a hello.”  
  


Keith grabs Lance’s warm hand. “Hello.”

Lance squeezes back. “Hello to you too.”

 

 

Some of the weight on Keith’s chest disappears.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Danggg this one was kinda hard to write. Tying in departure is kinda hard. Poor Keef 


	4. Careful

A lightning strike in a storm is to be expected, but to be prepared for the flash that streaks across the sky is a completely different matter entirely. It is silent, and brilliant, and completely and utterly deadly. The flash across the sky is a ribbon of intense heat that wraps around the turbulent skies. Crashes of thunder follow in succession, making the lightning bolt almost irrelevant. Dangerous beauty is overshadowed by invisible terrors. However, that doesn’t change the fact that it happened, and it ended just as fast, reappearing over and over until the storm is over.   
  


Falling for someone is like a tempest.   
  


It is on the edge of the horizon- in the cold wind blowing fast, in the darkening clouds, in the light drizzle that becomes heavier as time passes. The feeling builds and builds just as the storm rages on. When you come to the come to the conclusion that  _ yes, _ maybe this is something more, it becomes the bolt of fire, clear through the confusion surrounding you. Thunder becomes your fears, becomes the end, becomes the exact moment you crash straight into your feelings way too fast to slow down. 

Keith feels the droplets on his head, a gentle, but persistent tapping, reminding him of what he feels inside. Umbrellas are useless against the edges of  _ this _ storm, so he leaves his hood down, ready to embrace all the pain and beauty headed towards him.

It’s going to be a wild ride.

 

And fuck does that scare him.

 

* * *

 

Keith sits on the balcony of his apartment and breathes in the crisp air. The honks of cars and the muted noise of countless conversations drift up to reach up to him. He rests his forehead against the guard rails and closes his eyes. His makeshift bed made out of the one old duvet and a thin cotton blanket make sitting on the floor just a little bit less uncomfortable than it would have sitting on the cold ground.   
  


All the city sounds are inconsequential in comparison to all the cacophony in his head. If anything, they smooth away some of the tension in his body. It is loud and quiet at the same time. 

__ Lance. Lance. Lance  
  


His name stays in time with Keith’s heartbeat, speeding up and slowing down.   
 

_ Lance. Lance. Lance. _

Everything reminds him of Lance. The noise down below are like his constant chatter. The smog from the car engines remind Keith of the smell of the hallway carpets in Lance’s apartment. The bars he’s leaning again are just as thin and skinny as he is, although to be fair, Lance is warmer. The sweater he’s wearing,  _ oh fuck _ , that’s Lance’s too.   
  


Lance is Keith’s everything.

 

The dissonance in his head only grows.

 

* * *

 

Someone knocks on his door, jolting Keith from his half-sleep.

 

He groans and stands up slowly, stretching out his sore body. The bedding is a mess, but his apartment is empty enough to pass off as clean. Keith trudges inside, socks sliding a bit as he walks towards the foyer. There’s no doubt in his mind that he looks like an absolute piece of shit, but there is no ounce of him that gives a fuck at this point. A grey, bitter feeling sinks in his chest as he stands in front of the door, hesitating to open it. 

Only one person would be at his door at this time.

Keith runs a hand through his hair and opens the door.   
  


“Since you decided not to come to my apartment, I figured I could at least provide some company at yours and well, I’m already dressed in my pajamas if I do end up sleeping over…” Lance says, not even giving him a chance to say hello or some half-assed response. He trails off, noticing how terrible Keith looks. “I mean… unless you don’t want me to. I can go if you need some you time. Of course, I’ll be here if you need me, and-”

He simply steps aside. “Just come inside you idiot.”

“Oh uh… okay.” Lance walks in cautiously.

Keith yawns and pads out to the balcony. “I’m sleeping out here. You can take the couch if you want. It’s way more comfortable in there than it is on the ground.”

“But we  _ always _ sleep together!” Lance protests.

He just rubs his eyes. “Do what you want I guess. I’m feeling too shitty to complain.” Keith goes back to his original position on the balcony, crossing his legs and using the rails as some sort of pillow. His hands are in his lap, sleeves pulled up all the way to the tips of his fingers. He closes his eyes again without looking at whatever Lance decides to do.   
  


There's some clattering from the kitchen as china clanked together. Keith hears Lance boiling water, but he assumes that he's just hungry or something. After several minutes of absolute static silence between them, Lance goes outside and takes a seat beside Keith. There is some rustling as he tries to get his long legs into a comfortable position.  
  


Lance taps Keith’s shoulder. “Hey I made some of that earl grey tea you like. I would have made coffee, but tea is more soothing at night.” He hands Keith a black mug. 

“What do you have?” Keith asks, taking the cup from him gratefully.

Lance grins. “Hot chocolate, of course.”

Keith just shakes his head, unsurprised. “You're such a sugar junky. Diabetes is going to be after your ass.”

He shrugs. “At least someone's after my ass.”

“Don't lie. People stare at you all the time when you're in the bar, dancing to Shakira or whatever.” Keith takes a sip of the drink, letting it warm him up inside.

“Huh, I never noticed,” Lance says, slightly puzzled. “Oh yeah…” He pauses. “You look like crap.”

“No kidding,” Keith responds dryly.

“You okay? Do you want to talk about it?” Lance asks, setting his drink down.

Keith shakes his head. “It's ridiculous. Don't worry about it. I'm just being stupid again.”

“But I do worry about you. You know how stubborn I can get Keith. Might as well tell me now,” Lance says, shrugging.  


 

Keith does nothing.  


 

“...Come on, mullet. It isn't good to keep things pent up inside.” The silence bothers him, but he tries to keep his outward appearance calm. 

Few minutes go by, and Lance begins to to think that Keith going to tell him. He doesn't mind really, seeing as Keith is a pretty secretive person, but the least he could do is-

“I don't think I'm ready for us to be in a relationship yet.”  


 

Lance stops breathing.

 

“Oh god that came out wrong.” Keith smacks his forehead with his free hand. “Let me try this again.” He exhales. “I'm not in the right place to be able to be in a relationship with you yet. I still need to sort myself out before I start to burden you. But, that doesn't mean that I'm going to look for someone else.”

“I want  _ you _ Lance,” Keith says, practically confessing his feelings. 

“Really…?” Lance’s eyes are blown wide open. 

Keith fidgets nervously. “Uh… did I take that too far…? Do you not feel the same way…?”

“Nono, I do!” He waves his hand in a panic. After seeing Keith relax, Lance continues. He pulls the sleepy male towards him in a side hug of sorts, wrapping his arm around Keith’s waist and resting his head on the mop of black hair.

“We can go as slow as you want. I’m not going to leave you just because you aren’t ready yet. I’ll wait for you. We can do this together. Taking things one step at a time is just as fine as running up the stairs. We’re still going to end up at the same destination. If you want to be careful, I’ll be here to break your fall,” Lance says softly.

“Mhm… thank you,” Keith mumbles in Lance’s shoulder.

“Of course… now come on, go to sleep.” He helps Keith under the covers. 

Lance gets up to go to the couch, but Keith stretches out an arm to grab his sleeve. “No, stay here.” He moves to make room for Lance, who gingerly gets under the covers too. The taller boy rests an arm on Keith’s waist and buries his head into the back of Keith’s neck.   
  


“Goodnight Keith,” Lance yawns.

 

“‘Night Lance.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh this one is my favourite honestly, so good. Shoutout to Kewl :^) who really liked this one. Thanks fam <33  
> 9 Days Until Season Four!!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed :)


	5. Fresh

Sunlight peeks over the top and through the gaps between the towering buildings. All across the city, people are waking up to the beautiful frosty morning. There are only a few cars on the street, with majority on the sidewalks being sleep-dazed students and businessmen with enough shots of espresso to last them until noon.  


The smell of bread wafts through streets, only serving to make Lance even more desperate to get there. Keith, being the introvert that he is, had only discovered that there is an internet famous local bakery on his street when Lance drags him out of bed at five in the morning, yelling about strudels and baguettes in his ear. No wonder it’s such a pain in the ass to leave his apartment in the morning.   
  


Keith and Lance can’t help the watering of their mouths as they make their way across the pedestrian lane. Lance’s stomach growls loudly, making Keith snicker.   
  


“I told you, we should have just made breakfast at my place,” Keith says.

Lance wrinkles his nose, tugging him along by the wrist. “Your fridge is devoid of anything that I could possibly whip up into a fantastic breakfast. And that’s coming from a  _ fantastic _ cook.”

Keith snorts. “To be fair, I usually go out to eat on the rare days that I’m not at your place.”

“Exactly! We’re at your place, so we’re going to eat out!” Lance exclaims, slowing to a walk as they draw closer to the line outside of the bakery. “Plus, I can’t believe you’ve never gone to this place! It’s like, right outside of your apartment. You’re so lucky!”

“Not really… It gets crazy and pretty annoying actually,” He groans.

Lance mock gasps. “It’s worth it.”

Keith shrugs. “We’ll see.”

“I will fight you on this,” Lance says stubbornly.   
  


He just rolls his eyes.

 

* * *

 

Okay, so maybe Keith is willing to convert, much to his chagrin.  
  


Lance is way too smug for this honestly. He’s been smirking the entire time and while it’s cute as fuck, Keith also wants to strangle him. Keith is willing to bet that Lance the satisfaction of being right over the amazing box full of croissants and strudels, and a perfectly wrapped baguette, that they ordered from the bakery. Although the line was ridiculously long, which almost resulted in Keith giving up his place in line (and Lance needing to convince him time and time again to just be patient), he has to admit, it’s pretty fucking good.   
  


“Keith!!” Lance smacked his hand away from the box. “You’ve inhaled, like, three at this point. Save some for me! I’m the one that payed for them too!”

“Four actually,” Keith mutters as he chewed on a buttery, crisp croissant.

Lance throws a grin at him. “So, was I right or was I right?”

“You can be right all you want, but if you don’t stop circling the park, I’m going to eat these all before you can find a place to sit down,” Keith shoots back.

His smile slips. “Oh come onnnn….” Lance complains. 

“You still have the baguette.” Keith points out, not caring about Lance’s growling stomach.

“Oh that’s right, I do,” Lance says thoughtfully, grabbing the long stick of bread from under his arm. Another grin takes over his mouth as he comes up with a brilliant idea. 

“I don’t like that look…”Keith wags a finger at him, narrowing his eyes. “What are you planning? It looks very, very bad.”

“Huh…?” He says innocently, batting his eyes. The grin turns wickedly mischievous. “Oh you know, just  _ this-! _ ”

 

Lance jabs the bread into Keith’s side like a sword.

 

“What the fuck?!” Keith yells, jumping back in surprise.

“Hasta la vista...baby!” Lance half-screams as he dashes away with all the baked goods. 

Keith bursts out into uncontrollable laughter. He bends over and clutches his stomach for a good ten seconds before he stops. A competitive spark in his eyes lights up. “Nice try bitch. Those are  _ mine! _ ”   
  


He bolts after Lance.

 

“I’m coming for you asshole!”

 

* * *

 

“Man I’m tired…” Lance huffs, collapsing on an empty bench   
  


Keith simply stretches, getting a light workout from running after him. “That’s what you get for trying to get away with that box! Plus, you know, running off the carbs,” he says, wiping the slight sheen of sweat on his forehead.  
“That only applies to you! I haven’t eaten one yet!” Lance protests.

Keith rolls his eyes and grabs an apple strudel from the box, shoving it into Lance’s face. “Then eat one dumbass. I wasn’t planning on eating the strudels anyways. Those are yours.”

Lance smiles brightly up at him. “What’d you know, you really are a nice guy Keith. Thanks for saving those for me.”

He scratches the back of his head sheepishly. “They’re your favourite.”

“Nah, you’re my favourite,” Lance says absentmindedly as he peels off the top of the pastry. His eyes widen as he realizes what he said, cheeks darkening. 

Keith laughs a little, also red from slight embarrassment and pleasure. “Nice to know,” he teases.

Lance hits him lightly on the arm. “Jerk.”

 

They smile at each other.

 

* * *

 

Keith and Lance manage to demolish the box of twenty pastries in eleven minutes.  
  


“Damn those were good!” Lance sighs with satisfaction, tilting his head back on bench, looking up at the sky. “I’m kinda craving more.”

“I feel you,” Keith says, mimicking Lance’s position. A thought strikes him. “We still have that baguette…”

Lance sits up. “If you’re really want to, we can go back to the bakery and get some more, but let's not eat this one.”

“Why not?” Keith asks, “I thought that was ours?”

“I have a better idea than just eating it.” Lance stands up, pulling the overly relaxed  Keith with him. 

He reluctantly obeys and picks up the empty box, throwing it away. “Okay, so then what are we going to do with it?” Keith walks beside Lance, who grabs his hand.

“So, when I was running earlier, I passed this homeless guy, but I was too busy running away from you to stop. You probably missed him too honestly. I want to give it to him. It’s not fresh anymore, but it should still be pretty tasty,” Lance explains, retracing their steps.

“You’re so kind Lance,” Keith says quietly.

“It’s not much though…” He shrugs.

“That’s more than enough for them,” Keith counters.

Lance doesn’t seem convinced, but takes it anyways. “Sure… I suppose- oh there he is!” He pulls Keith along, spotting a grey blob sitting against a statue, barely resembling a human. They stop in front of the person.

“Um, hi!” Lance says cheerfully. The man looks up with bloodshot eyes, confused as to why someone would even be talking to him. “I have some bread here.” He waves the baguette. “Do you want it?”

“Me?” he asks warily, raising his head to properly look at Keith and Lance. Keith squeezes Lance’s hand a bit more for comfort. He squeezes back, but doesn’t look at him.

“Yeah.” Lance holds out the stick. “Sorry it’s not hot, but it should still be really good.”

He takes the bread hesitantly, half-expecting some sort of catch. The man breaks off a piece and takes a bite. His eyes widen as he continues to shove more into his mouth.

Lance chuckles good-humouredly. “It’s good right?” 

“Yeah, it is. Thank you,” he mumbles, nodding slightly.

“No problem!” Lance says, smiling. He pauses when he remembers something. “Oh, I need to go! Promised my friend here I’d get another croissant for him.” Lance addresses Keith. “I’m gonna go ahead.”

Keith nods and lets go of his hand. “Okay, meet you there.”

“Bye!” Lance half-waves at both of them, jogging off. 

The man stretches out the bread to Keith. “Take some.”

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Yeah, it’s fine.” 

Keith grabs a tiny bit and pops it into his mouth,

“That kid’s super nice. Probably likes to take care of everyone huh?” the man says.

“He does,” Keith responds, shrugging. “He takes care of me too.”

He smiles at Keith. It’s rough and scraggly, but he can feel some sort of camaraderie and understanding that relaxes him. “Well, then you gotta take care of him too.”   
  


Keith returns a small smile of his own.

 

“Of course.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do the strudel thing too lol. Idk, might just me being weird, but I like to eat the top first when roll the bottom.   
> 8 Days Until Season Four!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! :))


	6. Dawn

Sleep, similar to Keith’s biological parents, likes to constantly elude him, which obviously does not make for a very happy Keith.

 

Lance, on the other side of spectrum, loves his beauty sleep. Well, really, any sort of sleep Lance gets is considered “beauty sleep,” which is ridiculous considering how well rested he looks after four hours of sleep (not that he enjoys it though, since he ends up crashing at one pm anyways.) All in all, Lance gets the same amount of sleep a normal, functional human gets, AKA- more than six hours (a good two hours above Keith’s average.) 

On the days that Keith sleeps over at Lance’s, falling asleep is usually no problem. He follows a good hour after Lance goes to bed and crawls in, drowsy. It’s hard to break the habits of an insomniac, and honestly, he wasn't about to start now.   
  


This time around, Keith is nowhere close to sleeping.   
  


It’s quite boring without Lance’s constant companionship, but Keith tries to make the silence work with him anyways. He switches between watching crime tv shows to reading books for the next six hours. Keith would have picked up a shift as his job, but he’s just too lazy and Lance’s place is just so warm. He considers baking some cupcakes for a while before realizing that if he accidentally set something on fire, Lance wouldn’t appreciate getting up at four am to turn off the fire alarm.

Lance goes to sleep at eleven, telling Keith to get some rest soon. Keith, quite obviously, does not. He’s mastered the art of all-nighters at this point. Keith supposes it’s fine though, considering he’s more productive during the night, but really? Depriving him of quality Lance time? Eh, not that he’d mention it to Lance himself though.

 

When he hears Lance’s loud snoring at two am, he knows it’s going to be a long night.

 

* * *

 

Lance wakes up to a pillow smacked on his drooling face.   
  


He blinks sleepily up at Keith, who stands with a hand at his hip and the weapon of mass softness in his other hand. “Wake up. We have somewhere to be and you’re gonna regret it if you miss it,” he says.

“Did you even sleep?” Lance asks with a slight rasp in his voice.

Keith gestured at his unkempt self. “You really think I slept?”

He yawns, closing his eyes. “Well then come join me in bed. We can catch a few more z’s before the sun rises.”

“As tempting as that is, the sunrise is exactly why I’m waking you up so ‘early.’ We need to catch the break of dawn. Really, six isn’t that early... ” Keith trails off.

Lance lazily waves a hand. “Well sorry not everyone is such a vampire like you.”

“I try.” Keith rolls his eyes. “Come on. You’re going to miss it. You wanted to show me the beautiful things in life right, and this is me showing you one of the things that I think is beautiful.”

He yawns again, sitting up. “Okay fine.”

Keith throws the pillow at him and walks out of the door. “Grab a sweater and a blanket! I’m going ahead to open the door.”

“Okay mom!” Lance calls back snarkily.

“Just do what you’re told for once Lance,” Keith says, followed by the shutting of the door.   
  


Lance flops back onto his bed.

 

“A few more minutes… I’ll be right there. He won’t even know.”

 

* * *

 

“You went back to sleep didn’t you?” Keith asks as Lance sprints down the hall towards him.   
  


“No…” he says unconvincingly as he stops in front of the door to the roof. “I just grabbed a blanket for us.” Lance holds up edge of the fleece blanket tied around his neck.

“You look like a kid. “ Keith points out.

“Shhh!” Lance exclaims. “Let me live.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Okay sure boss.”

Lance settles for simply ignoring his answer. “I forgot to tell you, but usually the roof is locked, and the owners of this building don’t exactly like me enough for me to get a key up there.”

“If you didn’t believe I had some sort of way, then why’d you bring the blanket?” Keith responds, looking at him pointedly.

He shrugs. “Because you told me to.”

“Well good, cause the door is open.” Keith sweeps his arms towards the door dramatically.

“I highly doubt that,” Lance shoots back.

Keith smirks. “Do you really want to bet on my capabilities?”

Lance narrows his eyes. “Ten bucks it’s not open.”

His smirk widens. “Go ahead then.”

“I will!”   
  


With one push, the door opens up with ease, revealing a small staircase up to the roof of the building.   
  


Lance stares incredulously. “Fucking hell, you’re scary, man.”

“Yeah I know. I’m also ten bucks richer.” Keith laughs.

 

Lance cusses with enough force to need a whole bar of soap for his mouth.

 

* * *

 

Pink, orange and purple blend together like the creamsicles that Lance used to after school when he was a kid. The sun barely peeks up from behind the towering building, almost as if to say, _“Hey, I’m still here. Don’t forget me.”_ They are both bathed in the soft glow, giving everything a much warmer and gentler tone than if it were bathed in the harsh, burning sun of the midday sun. 

The roar of the city is turned down to more of a low hum as people are only waking up, getting coffee, and reading the morning newspaper. Lance wonders if there was anyone out of the millions of people living there felt as at peace and content as he does in this moment. He doesn’t need anymore than Keith snuggled up beside him, the blanket that wraps around both of them, and time to truly appreciate what he’s got going for him. Lance doesn’t think he’ll ever be completely bathe in the feeling of being so complete, but he is going to live right here, right now.   
  


“We missed dawn,” Keith mumbles, getting more and more drowsy. His lack of sleep is finally hitting, and it’s hitting quite hard. He’s fighting to keep his eyes open, but Lance can see he’s struggling quite a bit.

“S'okay. I still think it’s beautiful,” Lance says comfortingly. “Waking up early, as much as I hated it, was pretty worth it. Plus, we can always wake up early again another day to watch the true dawn.”

Keith yawns. “That’s true…”

“You tell me I need to wake up early, but you really just need to prioritize yourself honestly. You’re so dumb for staying up the entire night. Next time, I’m just going to force you to sleep with me, regardless of if you’re sleepy or not-” Lance’s tirade is cut off by a quiet snore.   
  


Keith had fallen asleep in the middle of his speech.   
  


Lance shakes his head with a dumb little smile of his face. “And it was your idea too…”

He rests his head on Keith’s, letting his eyes fall shut once again. “You’re so beautiful dammit.”   
  


They both fall asleep on the roof, on later to be woken up by the loud squawking of the local pigeons.

 

_ (Pidge would be proud) _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm that one person that nerds out when I see the sky a completely other color than the standard blue, so when I see a purple or pink sky (once there was actually green lol) you bet imma take a picture of that and immediately send it over to like the three people who aren't completely done with me lmao  
> 7 Days Until Season Four!!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed :))


	7. Home

Lance remembers the first time Keith slept in his apartment.

 

See, the thing about Keith is that he has a below average alcohol intake tolerance to say the least. That’s not to say that it stops him from drinking, because guess fucking what, Lance easily discovers how stubborn he truly is after two drinks, but Keith is what you would call a ‘impulsive drunk.’ If there’s something that he wants, he’s going to do it. It’s kind of hard to tell when he’s completely gone because he actually acts like a normal human being.  


_Kind of._  


For the ones that know what Keith is like on a daily basis, it’s easy to pin him down as wasted, but for the ones that don’t know him, the simplest way to put is that Keith becomes the more the more outgoing and cheerful version of him. Hunk and Pidge joke that when Keith’s drunk, he’s more like Lance than Lance is himself. They burst into laughter after realizing that Lance becomes more responsible, or… well, the Keith of the group.

In his defense, blackout drunk isn’t attractive. Plus, Lance is just better at keeping his alcohol in check than others. Contrary to what most might think, Shiro is most definitely not their designated driver on most days (the stress kills him.)

The first time Keith sleeps over was when they went bar hopping on the street behind Lance’s apartment. They had all decided that they were going to crash at Shay’s, who was also super close. Apparently, Keith really wasn’t feeling it or something, because he ended up convincing Lance that it was a good idea to lug his drunk self for a good twenty five minutes to his apartment. Pidge, being the asshole she is, decided to encourage Keith even more. Once Lance and Keith were inside his apartment, Keith makes Lance sleep beside him, to which Lance responded that he was going to regret it in the morning. Of course, Keith was already lights out by then. That made for a ridiculously awkward, but hilarious conversation in the morning.

After the third time this happens, Lance has just come to accept the fact that Keith is going to come and go in his life as he pleased, and that for that stray cat, it’s just his form of normal.  


So, when Keith shows up at his door, drunk like the beginning of whatever they have, Lance feels a pang of nostalgia and a sense of _“what the fuck; why did they let Keith go here by himself?”_

 

Keith is in a crop top and skinny jeans, accentuating his built form and muscles. His hair is a complete mess as it sticks up in several different directions, and his cheeks are flushed. Purplish irises are slightly glazed as he looks at Lance with half-lidded eyes.

He can feel his heart speed up as his hands begin to sweat.  


“Lanceee….” he whines. “ _I’m tired…_ ”

“Uh… okay, um, come in.” Lance moves to the side and grabs Keith’s arm to lead him inside. Keith leans against him, smelling like his classic woodsy, vanilla scent that lingers even with the smell of vodka on his breath.

“Why are you drunk?” Lance asks, helping him sit in a chair at his kitchen island.

Keith leans too far, but manages to catch himself. “Pidge asked if we wanted to go out for drinks. She told me that you were supposed to be coming, so I waited for you, but I when I figured you weren’t coming, I kinda just… _fuck it,”_ he slurs, resting his head on the counter. “I thought you were going to be there. Guess not…”

Lance feels slightly guilty. “Sorry… I was finishing some applications and forms for my job and whatnot. It’s kind of important so I bailed.”

“You should have told me at least,” Keith mumbles.

He scratches his head. “I should have yeah-”

Keith suddenly staggers out of his chair and stumbles into the bathroom, puking into the toilet bowl. “ _Bleghhh._ Everything feels like a bitch.”

Lance snorts. “I’ve told you not to drink so much.” He grabs a glass of water and fetches a shirt for Keith in his room. Lance goes inside of the washroom, setting the items beside the sink as he sits beside Keith, rubbing his back gently.

“I feel gross,” Keith groans, vomiting again.

“Focus on just getting it out of your system for now,” Lance says patiently. “Once you’re done, I’ll help you clean up and get into bed. I know you have some sort of aversion to sleep, but it’ll put the world in a pause for a little while at least. I’ll make you my classic “McClain hangover cure” when you wake up.”

“Thanks Lance…” he whispers.

Lance presses a kiss on his damp hair. “No problem.”

 

What a pair they make, sitting on the floor of a bathroom and breathing in the sour smell of vomit in the air. He thinks about how he wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else but Keith.

 

* * *

 

“Hey Keith?” Lance says his name as he tucks him into bed.  


“Hmmm?” Keith responds drowsily, rolling over on his side, making room for Lance later on in the night.

“Why’d you go to my place?” Lance asks.

He blinks at the taller boy in confusion. “Huh…?”

Lance backtracks. “I wasn’t there to bring you to my apartment this time. You don’t come here drunk and without a ride from one of our friends. Shay would have let you crash at her place with Hunk, and you wouldn’t have needed to come here alone, especially since it’s dangerous during these times.”

“I needed to go home,” Keith mutters, beginning to doze off.

He tilts his head in confusion. “But this isn’t your apartment…”

“You,” Keith whispers.

“I’m…?” Lance trails off, waiting for an answer. Keith stays quiet, almost making Lance believe that he had already fallen asleep. He begins to feel dejected, but shakes his head, convincing himself that it’s okay.  


Just as Lance walks away, a single word slips through Keith’s lips.

 

 

_“Home.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *is still screaming about all the content from the voltron panel in nyc* Yeah, I cannot get over Lance milking a space cow. Fuck snarky Lance is great. Also, BAMF Pidge??? Sign me the fuck up. Also, Keith and his training with the Blade????? I swear.  
> 6 Days Until Season Four!!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed :))


	8. Whisper

Pidge and Hunk have the habit of bursting into Lance’s apartment unannounced at the most random of times. They also have had the unfortunate consequences of witnessing things that they really shouldn’t have seen, like Lance prancing with a towel around his hips while he danced the macarena around his couch and kitchen. Let’s just say that Pidge spent a fair amount of time washing her eyes out in the his bathroom, with Lance laughing too hard at her awful reaction to his partial nudity and dancing.  


There’s a sort of pleasure in catching Lance in the perfect blackmail moments. She’s gotten pretty hilarious photos of Lance jumping, yelling, falling (etc) in a mix of surprise, anger, and annoyance whenever his front door slams open. Sometimes, if Pidge and Hunk are lucky, they end up with a drooling Lance, muttering Keith’s name (which makes for a perfectly red Lance when they show it to him when he’s awake.)

Hunk says he tags along to make sure that Lance doesn’t one day strangle Pidge out of frustration, but Pidge has a theory that he actually does find some sort of entertainment in bothering his friend. Regardless, she’s quite grateful for him being around because he’s quite amazing at diffusing any tense or awkward situations. That, and the fact that Hunk makes a perfect shield for when Lance throws his plushies at her head. The boy has a scary good aim.

The trick is to go completely sporadically. There’s the ‘once every week’ routine, and then there’s Pidge’s routine. She’ll go two days in a row, and then pop in three weeks later at around nine am. Being completely unpredictable keeps Lance on his toes, and the suspense is just another added bonus. 

After walking into Keith and Lance sleeping together, Pidge and Hunk have completely changed up their system. Now, they make bets on if the two boys are together before they randomly burst in. Hunk firmly believes that this is invasion of privacy, but Pidge counters his point by saying that he still bets and tags along anyways. She keeps this in mind though, not that she’d tell Lance, but she doesn’t want to be a complete ass.

 

* * *

 

Today, on the other hand, is a different story.

 

There’s this laptop Pidge has had her eye on for weeks, and she’s so damn close. All she needs to do is wring a couple more bucks from Hunk and she’s all set. Sure, she could probably bother Matt for money, but he’s as stingy as she is when it comes to the lovely shade of green.

She and Hunk stand in front of Lance’s door, both choking on the smoky carpet of the halls.  
  


“Wanna bet that Lance isn’t with Keith?” Pidge coughs into the crook of her arm.

Hunk shakes his head. “I’m not stupid. Chances are that Lance’s with Keith. I’m not losing twenty bucks over a stupid deal that I’m probably going to lose anyways if I chose to bet on that.”

Pidge frowns, trying to think of another way. “How about, asleep or awake?”

“It’s three in the afternoon on a weekday Pidge. They’re awake at this point, probably playing video games or watching a movie on Lance’s laptop or something,” Hunk reasons with Pidge.

She tries to hide a smile. If she’s learned anything about Keith over the past few weeks, it’s that the boy never sleeps, but when he does, he’s completely lights out for fourteen hours. Lance, loving the prime skin time, would not hesitant to sleep in even longer. With that in mind, she places her bet too.

“I say they’re asleep.” Pidge tries not to sound too confident, just in case Hunk backs out. “But you’re probably right… Guess I’ll take my chances though,” she says, taking out a copy of Lance’s key she made after he left it at her place.

“Is it our usual again?” Hunk asks.

Pidge shakes her head. “Nah, let’s bet… twenty-seven dollars…?”

Hunk raises an eyebrow, looking at her incredulously. “What are you planning to buy this time?”

She smiles shamelessly as she opens the door. “A laptop~”

He groans. “I’m screwed aren’t I?”

“No backsies Hunk,” Pidge says teasingly. “I’ll get you one of Allura’s recipes if you want.”

“You could have just asked me for money…” Hunk protests.

Pidge shrugs. “But then I would need to owe you, plus, you still do have a chance of winning still. So I mean, it isn’t completely unfair.”

“Still…” He trails off.

 

She begins to turn the doorknob.  
  


“Well… here's the moment of truth.”

 

* * *

 

Spoiler alert, Hunk lost.

 

They creep inside, hoping to scare Lance and Keith inside of his room. It’s happened once before, who’s to say it isn’t going to happen again?  
  


Apparently fate, which is a shame considering how hard it is for Hunk to manoeuvre silently through Lance’s cluttered, but homey apartment.

It takes about ten steps from the foyer to get to the doorway of his room. He’s always had the habit of leaving his bedroom door open, doesn’t matter whether or not someone is with him. And while he should be upset about how Pidge tricked him, Hunk doesn’t mind losing as much as he should. He’s a big supporter of his friends, and if this is a chance to see them together and happy, then why not (although he’s still going to get back at Pidge somehow.)  
  


They both stand in front of Lance’s door, peeking at the snoring pair.  
  


Keith is tucked beside Lance, a bit lower than him. Their legs are tangled together under the blanket as their feet stick out in the parts that aren’t covered. Lance is drooling a little bit, which Pidge points out to Hunk, who almost begins to laugh. Keith’s face is smoothed out, and the worry lines are replaced with a softer, neutral look. On closer inspection, Hunk notices that they’re both breathing in sync as well. He feels a twinge of fondness for the pair, and apparently so does Pidge because she tugs at his sleeve, indicating that they should go.

 

In a way, it is a good twenty-seven dollars spent.

 

* * *

 

Once they’re out of the apartment and have locked the door behind them, Hunk turns to Pidge.  
  


“I thought you liked to take embarrassing pictures of Lance,” he says to her.

She just gives him a half-smile. “Well, to be fair, I also really wanted to scream ‘klance’ obnoxiously to startle them awake. That would have been even funnier.”

“But you didn’t.” Hunk points out.

“No, I didn’t.” Pidge repeats. “I guess the least I could do is give them some peace. We can always just bother them when we go out for drinks or something. Doesn’t really matter much to me. Plus, Lance would have totally bugged me to send him pictures of them.”

Hunk laughs a little. “Just admit you think they’re good for each other.”

“I do though,” Pidge admits casually. 

“I didn’t think you’d be the type to confess so easily,” he says.

She shrugs. “It’s a skill.”

He just shakes his head. “ _ Sure…” _

“Now come on.” Hunk beckons to her. “Let’s go get that laptop of yours.”

Her eyes lit up. “Really?” Pidge exclaims like a little kid.

“Yeah, yeah.” Hunk laughs.

She smiles brightly at him. “Thanks Hunk.”

“No problem, but next time, use your bluntness to just tell me if you want something.” He pokes her in the side, making her squirm in place.

 

 

“Hehe, okay.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUNK AND PIDGE FRIENDSHIP MAKES ME SO HAPPY. Just a little break from the Klance-centric part of this fic lol :33 I need more Hunk content dammit, but I have faith that the developments are coming (come on Dreamworks, step up your game!!)
> 
> 5 Days Until Season Four!!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed :))


	9. Canvas

Lance pokes his head into Keith’s empty apartment, carrying a large plastic bag full of paint and a large canvas. He silently thanked Pidge for giving him a copy of Keith’s key. Sure, he should probably be more scared about what she’s doing with their keys, but he couldn’t be bothered at the moment.  


Keith is nowhere to be found, so Lance rushes to set up the canvas on the easel he had borrowed from Allura. The paints stay in the plastic bag as he moves the canvas around a bit more. It needs prime light so that Lance could sneak in some aesthetic photos of Keith painting, which he plans on printing out along with the photos from the woods. 

Lance couldn’t help but grin at his brilliant idea. This is one of the best ideas he’s ever had. Now all he needs to do is wait for Keith to come back from wherever the hell he is. Lance couldn’t wait to see the look on Keith’s face. It’s going to totally surprise him-   
  


Someone taps his shoulder, making Lance jump straight up in the air.

 

The other boy begins laughing. “You literally shot up like three feet in the air Lance!!”

Lance whirls around to scowl at Keith. “I’m trying to do something nice and you try and scare me? If I didn’t like you so much, I would take all this stuff and march right out.”

“I’m sorry,” Keith apologizes. “I didn’t think you’d get so scared from that.”

“I was not scared!” he protests indignantly, sputtering. Lance switches topics before he can make a complete fool out of himself. “Plus, where the hell did you come from anyways?”

“I heard you come in,” Keith says. “I was grabbing some clothes from my laundry room.”

Lance snorts. “You mean the room that was  _ supposed _ to be your bedroom, but you didn’t bother because you  _ literally  _ sleep on the couch or outside anyways?”

Keith rolls his eyes. “Yes, it’s  _ that _ room. There really is no point in anything else but the bare essentials. Minimalistic is a style too y’know.”

“There’s a difference between cluelessness and minimalistic my friend, and I think you know what category I’m going to put you in,” Lance says, rolling up his parka sleeves. “So here, I present  _ this-!” _ He waves his hands dramatically around the blank canvas. “You’re going to make this worthy of the title  _ ‘Razzle-Dazzle.’ _ ”

“What the hell does that mean?” Keith looks baffled.

Lance gives him a small smile. “My sister used to call her masterpieces that. So, whenever something good is about it happen, we’ve had a tradition to say that.”

“I can’t paint to save my life Lance,” Keith says flatly. “I’m just going to fail.”

He ruffles Keith’s hair affectionately, and bends down to grab the paints, brushes, and palettes. “See, the thing about art is that you could paint something crappy and still call it art because abstract just doesn’t give a shit about uniformity. It’s all about painting what you feel onto a blank canvas and making something beautiful from a blank slate.”   
  


Lance hands Keith a palette he had put various warm colors on and hands him a brush.

 

“Now here. Get arting Keith!”

 

* * *

 

So as Lance discovers, Keith is the farthest thing from inspired.   
  


“Is it really that hard??” he asks, flopping onto the couch. 

Keith stares at the white. “Yes, it is. I’ve stood here for a good thirty minutes and I still have no idea what I’m going to do without me having the feeling of disgust every time I look at this _ ‘masterpiece.’ _ ”

Lance throws his jacket off. “You know what-?” He marches over to the paints and grabs his own palette, loaded with different hues of blue. “Let me help you with that.” 

A paint brush dyed with cyan darts towards Keith’s coincidentally white shirt. Lance is too fast for Keith to back away far enough to keep his shirt safe. 

“My shirt!!” Keith yells, more startled than angry.

He shrugs. “It’s a  _ white _ shirt. You can easily get more from any supermarket. Are you inspired yet?” Lance shoots him a wide grin. “You look fantastic in blue. Maybe you should wear it more  _ often-! _ ”

This time, Keith darts out of the way, managing to streak Lance’s light blue shirt in retaliation. 

A smirk spreads across his lips. “Maybe we should switch colors for a day. Red looks great on you too.”

Lance simply lunges forward again in response.

 

* * *

 

“If there are paint marks on the ground, I’m going to yell at you Lance,” Keith says, pulling his soiled shirt over his head, exposing his toned muscles. Lance tries not to stare, but he’s got to admit, even the partial view from the floor is looking quite good.”

“Yeah, yeah. Why do you think I’m on the floor cleaning huh? Just trust me.” Lance keeps his head down to hide his blushing face. “Get me another shirt you jerk.”

Keith trods away. “Specific color?”

“Something that isn’t red!” Lance calls

 

* * *

 

And of course it’s fucking red.  


 

Lance really wants to wipe off Keith’s shit-eating grin. Honestly, it’s kind of scary how much more they’re becoming alike. He settle for an eye roll as he pulls it over his head. “Well thanks asshole.”

“That’s rich coming from the guy who painted a perfectly good white shirt,” Keith retorts. “Also, what the fuck are we going to do with these shirts?” He holds the paint-stained clothes up. “Throw them out?”

Lance shakes his head. “No, we frame them.”

Keith’s eyebrows furrow. “I can’t tell if you’re joking or being serious.”

“I’m being serious. There’s your art,” he answers, pulling on his parka too.

 

Keith still looks confused.

 

“It doesn’t matter what medium it is; if it makes you feel something, then it's art,” Lance says. “Put it in a picture from or something. Hang it up after the acrylic’s dried. I can even sign yours if you want. A big  _ ‘Courtesy of Lance McClain.’ _ ‘” He holds his hands up, almost as if he can already see it on Keith’s bare walls.

Keith snickers. “Oh please, you really think I’m going to let you sign it? It’s just going to make your big head even bigger.” He trails off. “On another note, we didn’t even get to use the real canvas. It’s kind of a miracle it stayed so clean.”

“We can do a round two.” Lance suggests.

They both pause and shake their head.

“Definitely not,” Keith says for the both of them.

Lance shrugs. “Well, spontaneity is kind of our thing. We’ll find a use for it eventually.”

“Allura’s an art/business major. We can just get her to do it.” Keith tilts his head at the canvas. “I mean, unless you have a better idea.”

He lights up. “How about a portrait of us?”

Keith shakes his head. “That’s a no from me.”

Lance gives him a knowing look and leaves him at that.

 

 

_ (Keith gets cornered into doing it anyways) _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tossed in a Razzle Dazzle hc lolol. Idk, p much a filler chapter, but like- not really? *insert shrug emoji that I'm too lazy to find*
> 
> 4 More Days Until Season Four!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed :))


	10. Land

Here’s the thing about Lance.

 

For the most part, he’s a calm person (up until you rile him up, which isn’t too hard to be honest). Lance can easily move past something for the sake of a bigger mission, and his big heart means that he will put himself aside for others. He’s also the type of guy that will stick to his tried-and-true routine, but will always be down for an adventure. Lance also has a very inconvenient habit of exaggerating his reactions, making it hard to tell if he’s just being dramatic or in actual trouble.   
  


Keith is still learning between the serious Lance and the theatrical Lance apparently.

 

* * *

 

Keith’s phone goes off for the third time in the past minute. He gets up from the floor, where he was doing pushups, and checks the caller id. Lance’s name is the first thing that pops up. He debates on turning off the ringer, but chooses to pick up the phone anyways. Lance has managed to drag Keith on completely unimportant side trips, and Keith is just much too lazy today to do anything productive.   
  


When Lance calls again, Keith doesn’t end the call, but picks up instead.

 

“Yo Keith!” Lance says, a bit muffled. “I’m in a bit of a situation and I need help. Come over to my apartment as soon as you can!”

A chill runs down Keith’s spine as he grabs his riding jacket draped on the couch. “Yeah, okay, I’ll be right there. Stay put.”

“Thanks.  _ Hurry! _ ”   
  


* * *

 

Keith’s eye twitches when he steps into Lance’s cluttered apartment. “Lance… potting fucking plants doesn’t count as a 'situation'…”   
  


Lance moves past him, carrying a large dark green pot full of dirt. “Well, see, I need your help in minimizing my disaster zone.” He waves at all the dirt on the ground. “I’m a bit rusty on potting plants, and well, it’s not exactly the neatest at the moment. If you could, I don’t know, help me place the plants in their new homes, or make sure I don’t accidentally knock over their former containers, that would be appreciated.”

Instead of helping, he stands there with his arms crossed. “And why should I help you?”

“Uhm, because I’m a fantastic human being that’s using the excuse of potting plants to spend quality time with you, and because I’m trying to show beautiful things in life and here is one of them?” Lance says super fast.

Keith holds up a hand to his ear. “What was that first part?”

“I’m a fantastic human being?” he asks. “Keith, I thought you already knew that.”

“No dumbass, the thing afterwards,” Keith retorts, rolling his eyes.

“Oh uh…” Lance flushes. “I wanted to spend quality time with you?”

Keith nods and pulls off his gloves and jacket to put on the proper gardening gloves beside Lance. “I mean, what’s so hard about telling me that over the phone. I would have probably gone if you had just said that right off the bat. You can just flat out tell me the truth y’know Lance,” he says, helping Lance take the plants out of their plastic holders.

“Yeah, but then I sound desperate,” Lance responds, shovelling some soil into the pot. “Oh and clingy. It’s kind of embarrassing.” 

Keith collects the stray dirt on his counter and pushes it off to a side where they couldn’t somehow spill it on the floor. “It’s fine Lance. Just get to the point with me next time.” 

“Sorry,” Lance apologizes, letting the conversation die down to simply moving in sync with each other.   
  


The silence feels a bit suffocating, and Keith finds it unnatural and awkward when Lance isn’t there to fill the blanks in their conversation. He decides to pick it up again, moving to another topic that won’t end in static.  
  


“Why are you planting these now, when it’s about to turn winter?” Keith asks, sliding over orchids to Lance. “I get it’s beautiful and all, with its flowers, but it seems kind of pointless.”

Lance shrugs. “I like the colours. Pink is sort of festive too. It’s as if it’s a reminder that spring is coming after the coldness of winter. Plus orchids are great indoor plants. They grow fairly well, and I can put them outside in the warmer months,” he says, gently setting the flowers into the pot, before putting a bit more soil on top. “Also, the flowers  _ are _ beautiful, but there more than what meets the eye. The nutrients in the soil are what helps the plant live and the roots expand underneath, anchoring itself in place. The process underneath the earth, the land for that matter, is also amazing.”

Keith tilts his head in consideration. “Huh, I never thought of it like that.”

“We all have our little quirks, and that’s just one of mine I guess,” Lance concedes.

“You’re not clingy or embarrassing Lance,” Keith blurts out, after a moment of hesitation. “You’re perfectly fine as you are. Exaggerating things in a funny way is who you are.”

Lance almost drops the bag of soil he is holding. “Keith....” He lets out a small laugh. “I’m not upset or anything. I just thought you needed your space.”

“Oh…” Keith trails off, blushing.

He hip bumps Keith. “But thanks. I appreciate it.”   
  


Keith lowkey wants to die of shame.

 

“Yeah… no problem…”

 

* * *

 

A small pot of various cacti sits on Keith’s counter with a tiny sign stuck in the soil.

 

 

_ (“With love and care, Lance”) _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MAN I HATED WRITING THIS ONE. I felt like it turned out at a level lower than my usual writing lolol. Eh whatever, it turned out fairly okay (also I told you Kewl)
> 
> 3 DAYS UNTIL SEASON FOUR OF VOLTRON BOISSSS
> 
> :^)) Hope you enjoyed my crappy writing


	11. Soft

Keith isn’t a materialistic person, mostly because he’s learned that you don’t get to carry much when you move around so often. The belongings he does have, he takes care of, and he’s never really found the appeal of getting new things. He much prefers worn and used items that contain something familiar than to be holding something foreign once again. Maybe this is why he’s so bad at buying gifts for others...   
  


Really, Lance should have known better than to invite him out  _ shopping _ of all things. At the very least, Keith hopes that this will provide some sort of entertainment on this boring weekend.

 

* * *

 

He looks at all the shelves lined with new, commercialized products with disinterest. 

 

“Lance, I get you have some sort of fascination with interior design, but I feel like you’re taking your millennial responsibilities to a whole new level.”

“Oh come on Keith, cheer up. Buying something useful is like I’m becoming an adult!” Lance says, examining different non-stick pans. “Huh, I bet Hunk would love one of these for Christmas,” he mumbles to himself.

Keith rolls his eyes. “You’re already an adult, you idiot.”

“Well, true… man, I swear it was easier as a kid.” Lance frowns, setting them back down.

“You weren’t the kid who wanted to grow up?” Keith asks, browsing through recipe books as Lance examined the kitchen knives in the display.

“Nah, I was the kid who refused to grow up. Well, even that’s wrong I guess.” He moved past the display case and into the kitchen clothes area. “I was the kid who knew that growing up was inevitable, but I tried to make the most of my time, goofing off and whatnot because life was going to be way crueller in the future.”

“That’s one way to look at it.” He lazily follows behind Lance, randomly picking up things that could hold some merit before setting it down again. “I was obviously the kid that had to grow up too fast. Not that I care though.”

“So then, let your inner child out today! Splurge on something!” Lance shoots him a wide smile, eyes bright with mischief. 

“Shouldn’t you be encouraging good decisions?” Keith asks, unconvinced.

“Who goes to Bed, Bath, and Beyond and comes out with only what they’re supposed to be getting?  _ Honestly _ Keith...” Lance shakes his head disappointedly. “It’s like you’ve never been in here before.”

“ _ I haven’t _ ,” Keith says flippantly.

Lance gasps, an audible, head-turning gasp, almost as if he had been delivered the worst news in his life. “This is  _ unacceptable _ !” Keith has half a mind to slap a hand over Lance’s mouth. 

He grabs Keith’s hand and drags him along. “That’s  _ it _ \- we’re going to spend the day in here,” Lance exclaims.

“I thought I was here so you had a companion when you run errands,” Keith sighed, letting Lance do what he pleased. There’s no stopping Lance when he’s in this mindset anyways, not that it bothers Keith though.

“I mean, you’re not wrong.” Lance trails off. “But that doesn’t mean that we can’t have fun!”

 

Keith wonders what he’s gotten himself into.

 

* * *

 

They move up and down the aisle, asking each other if they would buy different items that they held up. Keith points out the ones that match Lance’s style, aesthetic… whatever he called it, and Lance pointed out weird and funny ones that make them both snort in its ridiculousness.   
  


“Keith, Keith!!” Lance hollers from down the aisle.

“Shhhh, you’re so loud!” Keith walks to him. “What is it?”

“Look at this!’ He begins to laugh hysterically, making the item he’s holding shake. Keith has to grab it from him before he drops it.

“What the-” Keith cuts himself off, laughing at its stupidity too. “Who the hell wants to shove money into someone’s ass. This isn’t a strip bar dammit. It’s like a rip off fleshlight!”

That only makes Lance howl louder. 

“Ahaha..” He clutches his stomach. “I can’t breathe.”

Keith puts the ass piggy bank back on the shelf. “That’s worse than the inflatable neck donut and the algae toothpaste you said you were going to replace with your regular toothpaste with.”

“Hey, glow in the dark toothpaste is cool!” Lance protests.

“Why do these things exist?” Keith questions humanity, rolling his eyes. “I want to say it's just because that was the 2000’s, but none of these inventions are getting better.” He picks up another as-seen-on-television box from a clearance bin (good riddance honestly) and proceeds to mock it. 

“With the… uh,” Keith checks the box. “...Bling String, you can look like a Christmas tree on every other day than you’re supposed to! It’s great for hiding your lack of personality, the fact that you have no life, and make you look more stupid than you already are, which isn’t very hard to be honest. It's long enough to be a noose, but our company suggests you don't do that because it's going to end up just like you, a failure,” Keith says with fake perkiness in his voice.

Lance, at this point, is almost full out laughing-crying. “Your sarcasm is fucking hilarious. You’re too good at dark humour, oh my god. Pidge is gonna have a good run for her money honestly.”

Keith bows and tosses the box back into the bin. “If I ever see you using that, I’m never going to speak to you again.”   
  


“Aye aye sir.” Lance mock salutes. 

 

* * *

 

“Keith, if I beg, will you get me this Hershey’s candle?” Lance asks, holding up the accursed item.

He scowls. “Can’t you be a normal person and get an ocean breeze candle or something? Seriously, it’s like you’re a living shitpost.”

Lance flips him off, and moves on past the candles into the self-care area. “It’s fun being a shitpost. Better weird than normal anyways.” He pauses. “Oh this is cool.” Lance turns to Keith. “Yo, Keith, catch!”

He grabs a shiny package flying at him without even blinking. Keith flips the package around, not even surprised to see what it is. “Why’d you toss me a face mask Lance? Don’t you have like, thirty packs at home?”

“Yeah, I do,” Lance calls back, “But that one’s for you.” Keith gives him a look that suggests he isn’t on board. “Just try it. It’s a lot more soothing than you think it is. Plus, I said splurge didn’t I?”

“Okay fine…” he concedes. “Now come on… you came here for a reason right? Let’s actually get your shopping over and done with.”

Lance perks up. “Oh right! Let’s go.”   
  


Keith slips his hand into Lance’s as they walk away.

 

* * *

 

“Lance....” Keith says warningly.   
  


He whirls around, eyes widened overly innocently. “What?”

“If you get us kicked out of the store because you felt like jumping from display bed to display bed, I’m going to say I told you so.” Keith raises an eyebrow at Lance. “Let’s just get whatever you need and leave.”

“Oh right! Blankets!” Lance announced, pulling Keith along with him.

Keith furrows his eyebrows. “You have so many already, why do you need another one?”

“Soft, fuzzy blankets are essential for winter! They’re a staple accessory!” he says dramatically, waving his other hand for emphasis.

Something catches Keith’s eye. It’s rare for something to stand out to him, but he knows that it’s probably going to be worth the splurge. “Okay, you do that. I’m going to look at something if you’re okay with it.”

Lance brightens up even more. “You’re going to listen to my advice?”

“I always listen to your advice. Sometimes I’m just too lazy to apply it though,” Keith responds dryly. “You do your thing, and I’ll do mine. It’s a secret for now though. If you don’t mind, I’m going to show you it in the car.”

He nods, obviously curious but willing to respect the boundaries Keith set. “Sure, no problem. See you I guess.”

“No ugly blankets Lance!” Keith warns. “I sleep with them too!”   
  


Lance grins. “I don’t know man, we’ll see.

 

* * *

 

The driver’s seat door opens as Lance slides in. He’s carrying a big bag that he just slips between the gaps of the front seats and pushes into the backseats of his car. Keith had been waiting for Lance to come back. Apparently choosing a blanket required intense deliberation. As for him, his personal purchase sits on his lap, waiting for the perfect time to bring it up with Lance. He watches Lance struggle with mild amusement.   
  


“Do you need help, or-” Keith is cut off by Lance’s cry of victory when it finally slips through.

“I got it!!” Lance cheers. He looks as Keith as he puts on his seatbelt. “Sorry, you were saying?”

Keith shakes his head. “I was just asking if you needed any help or something, but I guess you managed to fit in perfectly,” he says wryly. “You know, you could have just slipped it into your trunk.”

Lance shrugs. “Too much effort.”

“Fair point,” he responds.“So, what did you get?”

“There was this cute pompom blanket and this paw print one I saw, but I ended up just getting a galaxy one in the end. It’s really cool, and I thought that you would like sleeping with it.” Lance gives him a small smile. “Just wanted to give you a gift of some sort.”

Keith feels a sweet ache in his chest. “Thanks Lance. I can see a bit of it from here, and I really do appreciate it.” He lets out a small huff. “I guess we had the same idea, because I got you something too.” Keith opens the bag and pulls out a box, handing it to Lance.

“Is this a-?” He opens it curiously. “You got me a mermaid snuggie!” Lance exclaims excitedly.

Keith flushes, turning away. “Yeah...  I thought you might like it-”

“Like it? I love it!!” A thought occurs to Lance. “Wait… isn’t this an as-seen-on-tv product?” He turns it around. “Oh my god, it is!”

Keith looks slightly horrified as Lance begins to laugh. “That makes it so much better!!” he says through the snickers. “What’d you know, the commercialized crap as come to bite you back in the ass.”

He rolls his eyes. “Okay I get it Lance. Don’t forget to breathe.”

Lance surprises him with a small kiss on the cheek. “I still love it. Thanks Keith.”

“No problem,” he mumbles.   
  


A gentle smile graces Lance’s lips as he starts the engine, music playing softly in the background.

 

 

_ (I love  _ **_you,_ ** _ Keith) _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roasts are so fun omfg ;^)) I live for when they both get sassy, although Keith is totally more of a sarcasm boi. Also, all of those inventions do exist irl if you do ever want to search them up (that lowkey fourth wall break)
> 
> TWO MORE DAYYYSSS UNTIL SEASON FOURRRRR!!!! (*is screaming if you can't tell*)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed lolol :))


	12. Write

_‘Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.’_  
  


Keith can only laugh at how foolish they are. For someone who’s learned to swallow their words, he knows their true weight as the sit on the bottom of his stomach like rocks in a river. He keeps them in chains, always afraid that if he set them free, they would turn into deadly blades that pierce straight into the hearts of the ones he cares about. Keith is scared to watch them bleed out right before his eyes.

And for the words that do not cause destruction, they bring another sort of ruination. They bring dread, terrors of the unknown. These words could bring the downfall of this peaceful atmosphere. This warm bubble that protects him from the outside. They start out small, eventually blooming into flowers that expand under this ribs, turning the spaces inside of him beautiful.  


Lance is the catalyst to his words, and this time, Keith doesn’t think he could stop them.

 

* * *

 

A chorus of metal against china sounds as they dig into the fricase de pollo Lance insisted he was going to make. Keith chews the tender chicken and silently thanks the universe for creating something as delicious as Cuban cuisine. Lance is already finished with his, and waits for Keith to down all the soup before he does the dishes.  


“So, what do you think?” Lance wriggles his eyebrows jokingly, grinning as he leaned forward.

“It’s was okay, I bet Hunk could make it better,” Keith deadpans, wanting to mess with him.

Lance frowns. “Oh please, I could see the look on your face. You _totally_ love it!”

“I do,” he laughs lightly. Keith can see the tension in Lance’s body lessen as he leans over to smack him in the shoulder.

“Y’know, I was very concerned.” Lance crosses his arms immaturely.

Keith smiles at him. “I don’t need to tell you your cooking is good. You already know that.”

He blinks in surprise. “Huh. I thought you were going to continue to tease me.”

“I could have, but you deserve the compliments.” Keith shrugs, taking a sip of lukewarm water.

“Oh… well thanks…” Lance says sheepishly.

“It’s true.” He gets up and puts the dishes into the sink, rolling up his sleeves to go and wash them for Lance. It’s a routine really. They used to fight about the chores, but at this point, they’ve learned to coexist peacefully.  


Keith can hear rustling from Lance, but thinks nothing of it, assuming that it’s just him being restless as usual. It’s only when he feels a tug on his sleeve does he turn around, almost face-first into Lance’s chest. He can smell the earthy, musky fragrance, for lack of a better term, that is completely and wholly Lance. Keith is tempted to just breath him in over and over, but restrains himself, noticing that Lance is holding something behind his back.  


“What’s that?” he asks, tilting his head to the side to get a better look at it.

“Oh this?” Lance pulls it from behind him, taking a small step back. He holds up a leather bound journal that just gives off adventurer vibes. “It’s something for you to write down all of your poetry and random lines you come up with.”

Keith furrows his eyebrows. “Wait what?”

“Sometimes I find these random scraps of paper around my apartment with your writing all over them, coming up with tiny poems. You also have the habit of mindlessly writing ideas onto stray tissues, magazines, and pretty much anything that’s lying around,” Lance explains.

“Oh uh… sorry?” Keith mumbles apologetically.

“Don’t apologize. I think they’re amazing. I’d love to see you actually write them out in one collection, and well, it really does seem like you enjoy it, so here. Something for you.” Lance hands it over to Keith, who quickly dries his hands on his jeans before getting it.  


It’s soft to the touch, and when Keith unravels the leather cord wrapped around it. The pages lines are light, and the paper is a faint shade of brownish-yellow, almost as if it was aged. There’s an inscription on the inside of the cover that reads, _‘From Lance, to Keith,’_ embellished with a simple heart and a smiley face. Keith feels a kaleidoscope of butterflies unleashed in his stomach.  


“Thanks Lance,” he says softly.

Lance finds it hard to look at him without turning bright red. “No problem…”  


A moment of awkward silence hangs in the air.  


Keith coughs, and turns away. “Well, um- I gotta do the dishes.”

“Oh, uh- right. I should clean up the table,” Lance blabbers, backing away.  


On different sides of the kitchen, they both mentally facepalm themselves.

 

* * *

 

Once again, Lance is fast asleep, while Keith is left to deal with himself for the however-long he plans on staying up. He really doesn’t mind the silence, especially now that he has something to put his mind to. All that restless energy inside of him is finally going to use.

Keith stares at the blank pages, tapping the end of his pen against his cheek as he searched for the strings that he could pull inside of him. Forcing them to come out isn’t going to create something that he would be satisfied in. He lets himself relax, breathing in and out. Keith turns ideas around in his head, searching for the topic that makes him _feel_ things, whether it be positive or negative.  


Suddenly it hits him.

 _‘Of course…’_  
  


Keith begins to write.

 

* * *

 

When Lance wakes up in the morning, he finds Keith passed out at the kitchen counter.  


He rests his head on top of his crossed arms. Lance can hear him snoring quietly. The notebook he gave to Keith is right beside his head. He’s is still holding onto a black pen as he sleeps. Lance is tempted to take a picture, but he’s more tempted to see what Keith wrote.

What’s the point in living in the same place if you don’t snoop?

_(There are two types of people in the world- people who peek at things they’re not supposed to, and liars)_

Lance manages to slide it away without waking Keith. He grins, opening the cover slowly, expecting something both emo and something just incredibly Keith-like as his first poem. Lance has seen super satirical pieces from Keith, and he really is just waiting for another laughter-fest. If not that, then something so deep that it just makes Lance go searching for a hug.  


Keith has a way with words that just resonates inside people.  


And while it’s not what he thought would be inside, Lance still ends up getting teary eyed. With every line, his heart knots even tighter. This is every part of Keith, everything that he thinks believes, and lives. Scrawled between lines, written carefully in his script, but with pure emotion, is Keith’s essence as a human.

 

Right here, in his hands, Lance is holding Keith’s feelings.  


And it’s beautiful.

 

* * *

 

 

_**nodus tollens;** _

_the realization that the plot of your life doesn’t make sense to you anymore_

_**  
** _

_i have long expected to simply drift alone,  
_ _content on the nothingness  
_ _i experience in my life  
_ _for that is course i have seen myself taking  
_ _time and time again_

_  
_

_the flow of time is both slow and fast  
_ _as i pass through the motions without a second thought.  
_ _it is a numb, aching feeling  
_ _that starts from your stomach,  
_ _crawling through the tunnels of your veins  
_ _and staining all that is_

_  
_

_the story blurs before me,  
_ _making the familiar sight waver.  
_ _now it is uncertainty i read,  
_ _far from the belonging i wanted to see.  
_ _i have read this passages over and over,  
_ _but only now do i see another world  
_ _hidden between the monotone routine that plays out_

_  
_

_back and back again,  
_ _i look to see where the words become something more.  
_ _and while i see how the dynamic shifts,  
_ _i still cannot find the reason as to_

**_w h y_ **

_it is your chapter i flip open_

_  
_

_the fog may weave its magic around me,  
_ _but with you,  
_ _i can see exactly where i’m going.  
_ _far ahead remains a mystery,  
_ _yet your light is a halo around me,  
_ _bringing gentle warmth and unexpected beauty  
_ _in all my steps_

_  
_

_you are my unexpected._

_  
_

_you are the green shoots from crumbly, rich soil  
_ _as life begins to pop up again  
_ _after the shards of ice stab all that can be seen.  
_ _you are the drops of rain on my head.  
_ _the beginning of a perfect storm.  
_ _colourful buds peak out from the tops of green_

_  
_

_you are the taste of lukewarm watermelon running rivulets down your hand,  
_ _with subtle sweetness in all your actions.  
_ _the grass bends under your feet  
_ _as you dance like the birds in the sky.  
_ _contagious laughter drifts on the wind._

_  
_

_you are the crunching of dead leaves as sneakers trample on top,  
_ _rolling around on the ground and standing up,  
_ _only to see warm sweaters covered into pieces of those leaves.  
_ _you are amateur photos of the red, orange, and yellow  
_ _that mix in among the green that hangs on,  
_ _and the brown that has let go.  
_ _on paper, immortalized in that moment,_

_it is stunning **(and so are you)** _

_  
_

_you are the small snowflakes that get caught on you hat,  
_ _sticking onto anything it can,  
_ _eyelashes, hair, clothes,_

_y o u, m e, **us.**_

_you are the feeling of being bundled up ever-so carefully,  
_ _watching as your breath turns into smoke,_

_and laughing at how red we turn._

_  
_

_red is what i feel when i’m with you,  
_ _as hot as the coffee we sip,  
_ _and as soft as the scarf you knit me._

_  
_

_you, in short, are **e v e r y t h i n g,**_

_while i am **n o t h i n g,**_

_and because of that,  
_ _you have filled me up with beauty, love, hope,  
_ _and so many other things  
_ _that i cannot possibly ever hope to understand._

_  
_

_there are parts in life where i do not understand,  
_ _and i realize  
_ _that many of those involve you,  
_ _for i still have so much to learn  
_ _about who i am,  
_ _who you are,_

_what **we** are, _

_and i know that i will always be discovering something new._

_  
_

_i keep your passages in my heart,  
_ _and while i know that we may not be forever together,_

**_i will write my own story_ **

**_in which we will._ **

 

(-Keith, to Lance) 

 

* * *

 

 

Later on, Keith opens up the journal, only to see a wet spot near the bottom of the page. The ink remains pristine though, so he’s grateful about that. He wonders where it came from. Surely he didn’t drool on it…  


Well, as long as it clean enough for Lance to eventually read, that small wrinkle from water can be ignored.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Fricase de Pollo is fucking good  
> -I'm a poetry hoe, so I mean, this chapter was to be expected lmao  
> -Also, shoutout to [Gravy/computedwings280](https://archiveofourown.org/users/computedwings280/pseuds/computedwings280) for helping me out with describing Lance's scent  
> -The journal is actually new, but you can buy those for like 30-40 dollars  
> -Istg, the poem is longer than the story  
> -Lance totally cried :^))
> 
> OH AND  
> YALL SEASON FOUR IN LIKE THREE HOURS!!! I CRI MANNNN IM SO READY TO BINGE
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!! :))


	13. Fire

When Lance calls, it usually means one of two things- that he’s ready to rant and really just needs someone on the other line to comfort/calm him down (although he calls only for the irrelevant topics, for the ones that actually matter, he ends up just texting or showing up to their place) and that he wants something.   
  


Now, while Hunk, Shiro and Allura can never foretell which one of the two Lance is planning to spring on them, Pidge has been blessed with that uncanny ability. She can’t say exactly she knows, but it more of the ‘gut feeling’ or ‘sixth sense’ that psychics pretend they have. 

So when Pidge’s phone rings at eight in the morning, when she hadn’t had her daily dose of enough espresso to give someone a heart attack, she is ready to hang up on Lance before she’s even picked up the phone. Pidge taps her bluetooth earbuds to let the call through.   
  


“ _ So Pidge- _ ” His voice is too sugary sweet, too false.

“No,” she says, cutting him off before he can even get to what he wanted.

“ _ Pidgeonnnn!! _ ” Lance whines loudly.

She rolls her eyes. “You know, that isn’t going to do anything to convince me.”

He snorts, but tries again anyways. “Oh great and gracious Katie, would you do the favour of coming with us to go camping tomorrow?”

“Ugh, my real name sounds weird when you say it. Don’t  _ ever _ do that again,” Pidge mutters.

“Only if you come along with us.” Lance bargains.

“Pfft, we both know that you’re going to call me that again anyways. Does it really matter?” she scoffed at his attempts.

Lance hums. “Well I guess it doesn’t.Just come with us anyways though.” At this point, he doesn’t even try to find a reason. Pidge knows that she could just flat out not show up, but she decides to throw him a line anyways.

“Why should I?” she asks.

“Team bonding?” Lance trails off, realizing how stupid it is only after saying it out loud.

Pidge wrinkles her nose, and even though he can’t see her, Lance can picture her face morphing into a frown, disgust in her voice apparent at that prospect. “You know I hate team bonding,  _ and _ it’s outside too.”

“Pidge, come on. Please.” He decides to put his pride to the side and just flat out ask beg her.  
  


She pauses, giving it some consideration. Pidge is the stay-at-home type- the indoor type. And while, she may despise the thought of being in an environment that isn’t as familiar with her as her room is, Pidge remembers all the times that Lance did things he didn’t want to do for her.   
  


“Fine,” she says flatly.

“Sweet!” Lance exclaims, making Pidge wince at how loud he is. “I’ll send you over the list of stuff you might need over the group chat.” There’s some rustling on his end. “Oop, gotta go! Bye!!” And without giving Pidge a chance to respond, he hangs up.   
  


She closes her eyes and groans.

 

It really is way too early for this.

 

* * *

 

“Hunk! My main man!” Lance practically yells.

He brings the phone away from his ear. “I’m going. There’s no need to butter me up Lance.”

“Did Pidge tell you?” Lance asks wryly.

Hunk gives an unseen nod. “She gave everyone a heads up.”

“Of course she did…” He rubbed his forehead.

“If it makes you feel any better, I can be in charge of the food,” Hunk says.

“Ooohhhh you’re a lifesaver!” Lance exclaims. “Are you making barbeque?” 

“I dunno, am I?” Hunk grinned, winking at nothing in particular.

He shuddered. “I’m getting this uncomfortable feeling that you just winked, and I can’t get over that.”

“Hey, don’t judge.” Hunk protests. “Well whatever…”

Lance claps his hands once. “Okay! I have you and Pidge, now I just need to ask Shiro and Allura.”

“Is Keith coming?” he asks.

“I haven’t asked him yet,” Lance says.

Hunk isn’t very surprised.“You should do that.”

“No shit Sherlock,” He bites back sarcastically.

Hunk shrugged. “Hey I’m just telling you what you need to hear, not what you want to hear.”

“Fair point. I’ll be off,” Lance tells him.   
  


“‘Kay, see you Lance.”

 

* * *

 

“I’ll bring the camping equipment, since you guys probably don’t have any,” Shiro says, even before Lance can get a single word in.

He narrows his eyes at a wall. “Wow, cutting me off?  _ Thanks.  _ Are you trying to get rid of me by any chance Shiro?”

“You’ve got a thing with Keith, Lance. You  _ really _ think I’m not going to pull the protective act?” Shiro snorts ungracefully.

“We’re  _ adults _ !” Lance protests. “And, plus, you’ve known me for almost a year at this point. We could have a bromance anniversary!”

“A, I’m never having a bromance anniversary with you,” Shiro ticks off. “B, I’ve known Keith much longer. He’s still my brother, regardless of how it happened.”

“Okay well, relax. I’m responsible enough aren’t I?” Lance breathes out loudly.

Shiro shrugs. “I mean I guess….”

“I’m offended Shiro,” Lance says.

“Be offended. I don’t care.” Shiro laughs after Lance falls dead silent. “I’m just messing with you.”

“I hate you,” Lance mutters.

“You can’t afford to,” he shoots back, grinning.   
  


“I hate that too.”

 

* * *

 

It takes Lance five calls before Allura picks up the phone.  
  


That fact stings him a little more than he would like to. She usually picks up on the first ring, and if not, at the very least, the first call. He knows that Allura’s probably busy, but that doesn’t make him feel any better about it. Lance may be annoying, yet he hopes that it isn’t to the point where people are just ignoring him.

 

“Ah Lance!” Allura says, sounding a bit relieved. “Sorry for taking so long to respond. Coran’s being having some problems with wrapping up a bouquet because it was so big, and then he accidentally knocked over a vase, so I had to clean that up too. It also didn’t help that I had misplaced my phone, and well-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lance cuts her off, voice a bit less energetic than it was for the other calls. “I just called to ask whether or not you would have any time to go camping with us tomorrow.”

“Uhh…” she hesitates, “There’s no promises about I can stay for too long, but I’ll try my best. There’s a lot of deliveries tomorrow, and I’m not sure if Coran can handle the influx of customers by himself.”

“Okay. Let me know, I guess…” Lance is almost at a complete monotone. “By-” 

“Hey,” Allura stops him. “Are you okay? You sound upset or something.”

He sighs. “I’m fine Allura. I guess I’m just tired.”  _ (‘Of feeling irrelevant,’ he thinks to himself) _

“Lance,” she says his name firmly. It helps to stop him from spiralling into a self-worth crisis, for now at least. “We all love you. Don’t forget that.”

“Thanks,” he responds, trying to sound a bit more cheerful. “See you tomorrow.”   
  


“Bye Lance.”

 

* * *

 

Keith walks into the kitchen, immediately noticing that Lance’s hands are in his hair as he leans on the heavily, elbows on the counter. He’s looking down at what Keith thinks is the off-screen of his phone, still and unmoving. Lance doesn’t notice when he comes up behind him and puts a hand on his shoulder. Keith can feel the tension in his body, and it seems as though he’s troubled by something.   
  


“Hey are you okay?” he asks, rubbing at a tense area to get Lance to relax.

Lance looks up and over his shoulder at Keith. He half-heartedly smiles at Keith, but without it reaching his eyes, it just seems more disconnected than anything. “I’m just thinking about what we need for camping for tomorrow.”  


While it’s a valid concern, Keith feels as though that isn’t the true answer. However, as curious as he is, he doesn’t push Lance for the true answer. Instead he focuses on something else that caught his attention. “We’re going camping?”

“Well, I know I haven’t asked you yet, and pretty much just sprung it on you, but yeah, I was hoping that you were down with camping out with us. Y’know, the squad- Hunk, Pidge, Shiro, and Allura.” Lance backtracks, wringing his hands together. “I mean… unless you don’t want to… which is perfectly fine too…”

Keith decides to just sit beside Lance at the counter. He waves his hands. “No, no. I do want to come! I’ve never gone camping with my friends before, and it actually sounds pretty great!” He rushes out, talking excitedly.

Lance furrows his eyebrows. “You’re okay with Shiro coming?”

“I don’t hate Shiro, Lance,” Keith explains. “I just felt like I was being a burden when I was living with my adoptive family. He’s the one that set me up with my apartment too.”

“Oh, okay.” His face clears up. “Well yeah, we’re going to be sleeping under the stars.”

Keith’s eyes light up. “Like,  _ outside _ outside?

“Camping is outdoors Keith…but yeah, it gets super cold, but the view is amazing,” Lance says.

“Can I start packing now then?” He’s tapping his foot impatiently at this point.

Lance is just laughing now. “Yeah, go ahead.”

Keith heads towards the door. “I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

He nods at him. “Sure. You have a key right?”

“Yeah, I do.” Keith pulls it out from his pocket.

  
“See you.” Lance smiles at him. 

 

His smile still holds some shadows.

 

* * *

 

Just because they’ve gone camping before does not mean, in any sort of way, that they were actually organized enough for this to go smoothly, nor that they learned from the last time they went camping and fixed those mistakes.   
  


Lance and Shiro were the muscle, unloading the car and putting everything on the side so that they could all access it. Keith had offered to help, but Hunk had whispered to just let Lance have this small victory, so he could at least do something with all his energy. Hunk and Pidge unpacked all of the things that they need, like the grill, propane tank, and whatnot. For the most part, they packed quite minimally, bringing sleeping bags, lanterns, food, and disposable utensils and plates. 

While the four of them did the manual labor, Keith and Allura had been tasked with collecting firewood. He isn’t exactly the happiest about the division of work, but he’s on good terms with Allura, almost considering her like an older sister (which in all honesty, she could be.)

They may not be the most productive or cohesive crew, but it’s a lot of fun joining in the friendly bickering, sarcastic jokes, and wayward insults that are never meant to actually hurt the person they're intended for. Lance tries to outcarry Shiro, who only tells him to be careful, while Pidge simply goads him on as Hunk attempts to calm them down. Allura is taking Hunk’s side, trying to peacekeep, yet she ends up laughing the entire time. Keith cheers on Shiro, even though he will always be on Lance’s side (oh man, Lance got so annoyed).   
  


Regardless of how long it actually took to finally get everything settled down, Keith is smiling throughout the entire process.

 

This is where he belongs.

 

* * *

 

As Pidge and Hunk debated on the best way to get a fire going (“just let me pour this rubbing alcohol Hunk!”), Keith drops off the remaining firewood he had collected and finds a clearing where he can watch the last few purplish-pink rays give way to the dark blue-almost-black night. The cool air brushes against his skin delicately, almost like an ice-cold feather. His hair waves a bit in the wind. He secretly pretends he’s Pocahontas for the hell of it (this is Lance’s fault).  
  


Just as he’s humming Colors of the Wind, someone taps his shoulder.

 

“I have to go now. Coran says that he didn’t get to finish up all the orders and he needs an extra pair of hands to help him out at the shop,” Allura says, hands buried in an oversized jersey jacket. “Sorry I had to cut the trip short. I’ve already told the others too.” She nods towards the four, debating about something over the now ablaze pile of wood.

“Oh, that’s okay. It’s important after all. I hope next time you get to stay longer,” Keith replied, flashing her a small smile. 

“Same here. Well, goodbye Keith. Have a good night!” She half-turns away before stopping, remembering that she had something else to tell him. “Oh, and take care of Lance for me will you?”

Keith looks confused. “He’s fine right now isn’t he?”

“Just agree and go along with me,” Allura says. “I need to know if he’s in good hands.”

“Yeah… of course he is,” he promised. 

She smiles widely at him. “I’m holding you up to that!” Allura waves to him again, before walking away, back to where their cars were parked. He watches her bid farewell to the others too, before leaving.

“I wonder what that was about…” Keith muses to himself, shrugging after thinking about it again.   
  


“I’m sure it’s nothing.”

 

* * *

 

The fire crackles quietly, providing the background noise as the five of them ate barbeque, hotdogs, and s'mores off of their plates. Pidge insists that she is not going to risk letting any of that sugary goodness fall on the ground, to which Lance retorts that she may be the size of a toddler, but she isn’t as stupid as one. She almost kicks him in the balls, but decides to let him off the hook for the sole reason that he also complimented her intelligence in his classic double edged sasses.  
  


Meanwhile, Hunk and Shiro are off to the side, with Shiro comforting him about how Shay is going to love the gift Hunk built for her. Keith is content to sit back and eat his food, watching the others as if they’re on one of the telenovelas Lance loves to watch.

Lance, having given up on trying to convince Pidge that hamburgers are superior to hotdogs (Pidge saying that Lance is currently eating a hotdog, which Keith supposes is both a valid point and a shot at their weird relationship), plops himself beside Keith.

 

“So, thoughts on the trip?” he asks, leaning closer to the warmth (AKA Keith).

“This is so much fun. It took way too long to set up, but I’m really having a great time,” Keith answers, not realizing that he’s smiling as he thinks about all the inside jokes that they now all have. Lance looks at him with slight awe and fascination. 

He notices and tilts his head. “Is there something wrong with my face?”

“No, no!” Lance hides his face, embarrassed. He slowly takes his hands away.  “You just look super happy, and I’m glad that you’re liking this.”

Keith nods. “I  _ am _ happy. Everything is just so beautiful.” He points at the various things around him. “The night sky is beautiful. The empty branches of the tree are beautiful. I think my favourite thing is the fire though. I’ve never made a campfire, and it’s just hypnotizing and pretty.”

Lance shakes his head, laughing a little. “Of course the fire is your favourite thing.” His grin fades into a softer smile. “You know, I can see it inside of you too- the fire,” he explains, standing up. “It flickers brightly inside of you. That’s who you are. Uncontrollable, captivating, and absolutely glowing with life.”

He stares at  Lance, surprised at what he said. “D-do you mean that?”

Lance merely looks at him. “When I have I ever not?”  
  


He walks away, leaving a flustered Keith in his midst. Even after managing to contain his spluttering after downing an entire water bottle, he’s still having trouble breathing. Lance says super slick and charming things sometimes that are way too corny for Keith to take seriously, but the genuine emotion Keith felt in those words are so  _ real.  _

Honestly, who is he kidding? Lance is a poet by simply speaking from his heart. Keith hears these words all the time, but it’s time to put some actual consideration into what they mean and truly hold for him.  


 

(Needless to say, Lance’s heart is beating way too fast)

 

* * *

 

With dinner beginning to dull down, they all decide to clean up, getting ready for the night. Keith throws out any trash they may have left around while Hunk and Lance clean up all their cooking equipment. Shiro begins to pull out the sleeping bags as well. Just as Keith finishes up, Pidge comes up to him.   
  


“Keith. I want to talk with you,” she says. “Come with me.” She leads him away a few feet away from the fire and any possible prying ears.   
  


Pidge being Pidge means she gets what she wants, when she want it, which really is the sole reason as to why Keith doesn’t bothering trying to get out of whatever lecture or speech is headed his way. Only insane people would actually ever bother arguing with Pidge.   
  


“Yeah, what is it?” he asks, crossing his arms, more for warmth than posture.

She exhales, letting out a puff of smoke from the cold air. “We all know that Lance has feelings for you, and that you do feel something for him, as undetermined you guys are right now.”  _ Oh here it is. _

“As someone who’s known Lance for years, I’m attached to that bony jerk. He really is like another brother to me.” Pidge pauses for extra effect. “Be careful with his heart Keith Kogane.”

“Full name too huh…” Keith responds wryly. “What’s up with everyone telling me this now?”

“Whether you like it or not, you and him are already pretty serious.” Pidge is dead serious as she forges ahead. “We’ve seen him through his ups and downs, and while I’m sure you have too, the lowest points are still yet to come. You’re not the only one who struggles who you are inside Keith. People use Lance all the time,” she rants, clearly furious towards the ones in question.

Pidge slows her words down, letting her anger fade into something more cautionary. “I know you’re not the type of person to do that, but still. He cares so much about you, and we don’t want see him hurting.”

“I would never hurt Lance, Pidge.” Keith feels a painful throb in his chest when he thinks about how heartbroken Lance had been in the past. “He matters too much to me. We might fight childishly, but I could never intentionally hurt or use Lance without being hurt myself. If anyone hurts him, I’d be first on their ass.” He deliberately emphasizes all his words, trying to drive that face in home. 

“You better stay true to that Keith. I will steal your fucking identity and sent you straight to jail if I even get a sense that Lance suffering because of you. And you know what I’m like when I’m pissed Kogane. Don’t cross that line,” she threatens, narrowing her eyes intimidatingly.  
  


Pidge may be the smallest one here, standing almost a head lower than Keith, who is technically one of the more shorter people in the group, but not once would he ever dare to test his limits with her.   
  


“I don’t doubt that for a second.” He raises his hand, pledging his honesty. “I won’t.”

She nods, approving his vow. The truth rings in his voice clearly. “Okay. I believe you.”

“Just some good intentioned hint from me as someone who really does want everything to work out, if you want to see the night sky and the stars clearly, go set up your sleeping bag over by that area you were at when Allura was saying goodbye,” Pidge advises, giving a subtle head tilt to where Lance is currently laughing at Shiro. “It’s cold, but it’s definitely worth sleeping away from the fire.” 

Keith catches her drift. “Thanks Pidge,” he says, smiling gratefully at her.   
  


She winks back, pushing him back towards the fire.

 

“I got you.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I realize that this isn't very klancey, but this chapter is more of a set up for the next one :^)) I love any Pidge interaction tbh. I'm really trying to not make Hunk dumbed down, but idk if I'm doing this good enough. This is pretty long chapter, compared to the other ones at least.
> 
> Oh mannn, season fourrrr. I haven't had time to watch it, but six episodes are so easy to binge lolol. Tribute to season four I guess haha
> 
> I hope you enjoyed :))


	14. Eclipse

Stars are scattered across the sky, stark against the onyx. They’re lucky to go out on such a cloudless night. Although Keith spent many nights outside, refused a bed when he was younger, the stars back then hold nothing to the stars he sees now. His arm brings some extra height to the pillow underneath his head as he looks up, memorizing the infinite dome above him.   
  


Crunching footsteps near him as Lance walks over to where Keith is lying on his sleeping bag. Lance still has his roll underneath his arm. “Hey, is this spot taken?” he asks, almost sheepishly. 

Keith stands up.“Oh… no, here. I’ll move over.” He drags his ‘bed’ a bit to the side, making room for Lance’s sleeping bag. After a few minutes of shuffling, both of them settle down beside each other. Their sleeping bags are touching, but they stay inside of their respective areas.

“Sorry to take up your space. I’m just used to sleeping beside you, and this is the best place to stargaze. I’ve kind of missed that,” Lance says apologetically, shifting so he could look at Keith on his side. 

“I can see why you would miss this.” Keith responds softly, looking into Lance’s dark blue eyes. “The sky's so clear.”

Lance looks back at him, maintaining their stare. “It is huh.”

“You’re not even looking at the sky!” Shiro calls from near the fire. “We can hear you! Keep it pg-13; there are children here!”  
  


Both Lance and Keith jolt away from each other, flushing bright red. Keith opens his mouth to defend himself, but Pidge beats him to it.   
  


“Oh please Shiro, they don’t need you acting like Matt,” she retorts. “Screw pg-13. We’re all legal you know. The poor boys need a break,” she says wryly. 

Lance splutters, ready to retaliate, only to stop when Keith reaches over and puts a hand on his arm, indicating that it’s okay to just let this one slide. He narrows his eyes, but nods in understanding.

“I’m just joking around,” Shiro amends, laughing a little bit. He pauses. “Please don’t have sex where we can hear you though. And use protection.”

 

 _“SHIRO!!!”_ All four of them shriek.  
  


It’s just too easy to tease them.

 

* * *

 

Because of Keith’s insomniac nature and Lance’s refusal to close his eyes and miss out on even a second of the stars above them, they decide to play a game of twenty questions. The fire had been extinguished for several hours now, and the other three are asleep, snoring quietly, but they still keep going, fighting the exhaustion that threatens to take over.   
  


“Okay, it’s your turn to ask a question,” Keith says, nudging Lance lightly.   
  


It takes Lance a couple minutes before he answers.   
  


“Say, Keith, have you ever seen an eclipse before?” His voice a bit flat as he asks the question, ringing with false cheerfulness. Keith almost cringes when he hears Lance speak like that. It’s almost painful to listen to.

“Hm? Yeah, I have. Why?” he responds, trying his best to remain unfazed.

“Here’s a fun fact: my life is a never-ending eclipse,” Lance bites back, sarcasm dripping in an almost malicious way. Looking past it though, it’s possible to hear the resignation and sadness in his words. It’s sounds like some sort of cruel joke that Lance is telling, where the punchline is more heart wrenching than it is amusing.

Keith freezes, caught off guard by his sudden confession.“What-?”

He continues, not giving Keith a chance to bounce back. “I’m insignificant and always overshadowed. There’s no way for me to shine bright enough to be relevant. In the end, I’m just the sun during a Lunar Eclipse, only a faint trace of me at my peak,” he says bitterly. Lance blames himself for being worthless. All these flaws are his fault. 

Lance clears his throat, laughing weakly. “Ha… sorry for springing that on you. I figured I should give you a disclaimer before you’re certain you want to be around me.”

“Lance, I don’t need a disclaimer,” Keith responds, reaching across their bags to grab one of his hands gently. “I will always be around, regardless of your warnings. If anything, if you’re feeling down, I’ll be even closer to you, which may result me ignoring your comfort zone.”

“That’s both really nice and kind of creepy,” Lance says, trying and failing to joke around.

Keith sighs. “You’re deflecting with humour. It’s like a habit of yours.”

Lance shrugs pathetically, shrinking into himself. “If I’m a joker, then people will laugh at me because I want them to, not because they felt like it,” he replies, frowning.

“Oh Lance…” Keith trails off. He takes a breath in and tries again. “Look, I’m terrible at speaking up, but I’ll going to do my best,” he mutters, barely above  whisper. “If you’re the sun, then everyone is constantly bathed in your light. The sun is a permanent fixture in all of their lives, just like you are. You bring all of us, especially me warmth, comfort and security. We need the sun, like I need you.” 

He bites his lip. “And you’re a joker in a sense that you make everyone happy and laugh. I would do that to make you happy, because that’s all that matters to me, seeing you living brightly,” he concludes, saying everything with quiet conviction.

“Keith…” Lance simply says his name, unable to find anything to say to him. He squeezes Keith’s hand half-heartedly.

“Do you trust me?” Keith asks.

Lance hesitates, looking away before answering. “I do yeah.”

He tilts Lance’s head towards him so that he can make sure that Lance is taking this straight to heart. “Then believe in my words.”

“Thank you,” Lance whispers, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

“Of course,” Keith responds comfortingly. He realizes something, changing the topic now to something more comfortable and less heavy. “Oh, now it’s my turn to ask you a question.”

Lance nods. “Go ahead.”

“Red or blue?” he asks, knowing what Lance is going to answer before he even opens his mouth to answer. Keith hadn’t asked because he didn’t know, but because he wants something that he could tease Lance about. 

He rolls his eyes. “Um, it’s obviously blue.”

“You’re biased,” Keith points out. “That’s not fair.”

Lance wrinkles his nose. “Who asked you? You’re the biased one!” he argues childishly.

Keith raises an eyebrow. “Oh really? Who’s the one that’s whining?”   
  


They glare at each other for an intense minute before bursting into loud laughter, ignoring the shifting and groans from Hunk and Pidge, who get half-woken up by their noise.  
  


Lance grins at him. “Fair enough.”

 

A weight lifts in their chests, and Keith knows they’ll be just fine.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is so cutesy oh my god. Shoutout to Kewl again :^)) this was one of the chapters you were looking forward to, and I'm hoping that this is passing fam :') It's also pretty short ugh. I'm trying so hard to make their flow not forced at all. *sigh*
> 
> Also, I'm sobbing over season four. That was a good six episodes. I need more. And ughhhh Keeeeffffffff I cri. Honestly, people are complaining about the character development, and while I know there wasn't too much in it, I still think that there was still points where the characters do show growth.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed :))


	15. Quiet

So, as it turns out, apparently Keith’s shitty apartment does have a purpose. If he wasn’t used so to the constantly cold state his place is, then he would have frozen overnight. His breath is a cloud of white smoke, eventually vanishing again. He blinks sleepily, noticing that Lance isn’t in his sleeping bag. Keith crawls out, standing up slowly to stretch and let out a loud yawn.   
  


“Now that’s loud,” Lance says dryly. He turns around to see that Lance is sitting at one of the chairs they had put up to replace the makeshift seats from the logs, deeming it a fire hazard yesterday. 

Keith yawns again, trudging towards him. He shoves his hands in the front pocket his plain hoodie he had dug up from the depths of his closet. “‘Morning,” he greets Lance amicably.

“Oh, ‘morning too Keith,” Lance responds, sounding a bit surprised to hear how tame he’s being. He had expected a snarky response off the bat, but it’s probably because he hasn’t had any coffee yet. “Here, take this. It’s not the same as the coffee we usually have in the the morning, but I did what I could do.” Lance hands Keith a lukewarm cup.

Keith takes it from him gratefully, sitting down beside him. “Huh, thanks.” He yawns again, blinking away the small tears at the edges of his eyes. “What are you doing up so early? You usually love to sleep in,” he asks, noticing the role reversal.

Lance shrugs. “I wanted to catch the dawn we missed before.”

“You should’ve woken me up early too then,” Keith says, taking a sip of the bitter drink.

“Nah, you were passed out cold. Snoring loudly even.” He shakes his head, grinning a little bit when he adds that small comment at the end. Lance is lucky enough to have enough energy to tease Keith, who’s still ready to slip right back into his no-longer warm sleeping bag.

“Hey!” Keith exclaims, albeit a little bit late.

“Haha, I’m just kidding.” Lance waves his hands, setting them down after a moment. “It’s nice to listen to the quiet of the morning too. I just didn’t really feel like talking to anyone yet. Y’know, just enjoying that peace and quiet. Not to offend you or anything though,” he replies.

Keith wrinkles his nose. “Lance, how dare you. Like you put me in such an uncomfortable situation. Like you _ know  _ I’m not happy. You know I’m trying to see if it’ll work out here and I  _ know _ that it’s not,” he rants, sounding like a valley girl.

Lance just stares at him. “What the fuck Keith. Do you actually-” He blinks, realizing what exactly Keith did. “Oh shit haha. I can’t believe I didn’t catch that.”

“Is my Kardashian impression so bad that you couldn’t even tell?” Keith asks, grinning a little bit. He downs the rest of his drink and leaves it in the cup holder. 

Lance rolls his eyes. “Fuck off Keith,” he mutters

“Pfft. That’s my line.” Keith snorts.

Lance motions Keith to be a lower his volume. “Shhhh, Pidge is going to stab a bitch if we wake her up too early,” he warns him.

Keith raises an eyebrow, resting his elbow on the fabric arm of the foldable chair so that he could prop up his head to look at Lance. “So you?”

“I shouldn’t have given you that coffee,” he sighs, rubbing his forehead jokingly.

“Do you  _ really _ want me to be more bitchy than I already am?” Keith scoffs.

Lance frowns. “Right… I forget how annoying you can get when you don’t have any caffeine.”

“Look who’s talking.” Honestly, Keith is just on a roll right now. He could do this all day. Lance doesn’t look very amused by it though, but that just makes it much sweeter. 

He sighs. “Do you ever stop?”

Keith shrugs. “No, not really.”

“Jerk,” Lance muttered, elbowing him in the side.   
  


Keith merely smirks at him.

 

“I know.”

 

* * *

 

Shiro turns over inside his bag, burying his drowsy smile into his pillow. He’s half-awake, but he isn’t going to get out just yet. Leaving them alone seems like a better choice in this situation. As much as he’d like to tease them, he’s going to draw a line to that too. Pidge is right in warning him to back off.  
  


Lance and Keith have completely ignored the gap created by their armrests. Keith is resting his head on Lance’s shoulder now, and Lance on top of his head. They’re still bickering, but Shiro can tell that it’s simply all for the fun. When Keith goes on a tangent, Shiro can see the fond look Lance gives him. Their smiles are perfect.

 

If Keith’s happy, then he’s happy too.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOPS POSTING THIS AT 12 AM BECAUSE I FORGOT TO BUT YEAH, HERE TAKE THIS CHAPTER LMAO. Its also p short but whatever.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this stub lmao :^))


	16. Flow

A bell rings in the tiny flower shop, indicating the opening door. The sweet, almost rain-like smell coats in interior. Shiro walks in with a drinks stray from the local cafe. He stops at the counter, smiling at her bowed head. Allura looks up from her position at the counter as she arranges some violets with roses.  
  


“Ah Shiro! Nice of you to stop by the shop!” she exclaims, partially hidden by the flowers.

He pulls out one of the cups, setting it down on the counter. “I got you some coffee too.”

Allura leans over and grabs the cup. Hints of vanilla and cinnamon waft up as she pops open the top. “Thanks, I needed this,” she responds gratefully, taking a careful sip. Allura sets it down beside a pair of scissors, and sighs, wiping away at small beads of sweat that gather close to her hairline. 

“I can kind of tell,” Shiro answers wryly.

She finishes up her current arrangement and goes around the counter. “I’ve got some things to do, but we can still talk while I do these arrangements.”

“Yeah okay.” He nods, drinking his own coffee.“It’s too bad you missed rest of the camping trip,” Shiro says casually, leaning against the counter as he follows her busy movements around the room.

“Did anything interesting happen?” Allura asks. “I really did want to stick around, but that’s just how life goes though.” 

Shiro tilts his head to the side as he recalls what they had gotten up to. “We had a barbeque, played some card games and hide n’ seek, which Pidge obviously won, considering how small she is, and stargazed since the sky was pretty clear that night. We also ended up splashing around in a small river Hunk found before we went hiking the next day.” He lists them all off, pausing a little between each event.

“Oh, and I also teased Lance and Keith a whole bunch of times,” Shiro mentions as an afterthought. 

Allura claps her hands excitedly. “That sounds like so much fun! I’m glad you had enjoyed.” She brings a finger to her lips, thinking about what he had said. “You say you teased them like something you don’t do on a daily basis.”

“Huh, I bug them a lot now that I think about it,” he says, acting as if he was mildly surprised, but giving away in his tone that he knew what we was doing.

She laughs a little bit. “You’re like a dad!!”

Shiro shrugs, grinning. “I can’t help but be overprotective. It’s my nature.” He opens his mouth, stopping when he realizes that maybe she wouldn’t know. She notices and just stares at him until he opens his mouth again. “Hey, Allura.”

“What is it?” she asks, setting two more bouquets on the counter as she wrapped them up. Allura sneaks in another sip of coffee when she thinks that Shiro isn’t watching.

“Do you think they’ll last?” A bit of uncertainty clouds his voice. Allura can tell that Shiro’s not just asking ask a mere topic of conversation, but as someone who is looking for some sort of advice or validation on their thoughts. She tries to step lightly when she answers his question. 

“I can’t definitively say they will, or they won’t.” Allura begins diplomatically, folding her hands on the counter (an old habit of hers). “All I can say is that they’re happy together. They connect and fit in ways I didn’t they would the first time I saw them together. Those two balance each other out perfectly, with Lance keeping Keith stable, and Keith providing Lance with extra support.” When she sees Shiro nodding along with her points, it brings her slight relief to think that she may have eased his concerns, even if it is just an insignificant amount.

“What about you?” She turns his question back at him, a bit curious to see what he thinks about it now.

“Honestly…” Shiro trails off as he takes a moment to reorganize his thoughts. “I’m just glad that Keith’s found a place where he belongs. He could have stayed with our family if he wanted, but I guess that Keith still felt just as lost, even if we weren’t as awful as his other homes were. They’re partners, regardless of the romantic or platonic aspects.” He sounds absolutey proud of what his brother’s been able to accomplish, even what he’s been through.

“Keith is free to do what he wants, and I’d like to think that Lance is helping him get to where he wants to be,” he concludes, shrugging.

“I like the way you think. You really have been so kind of him.” Allura responds, smiling brightly at Shiro, who looked down in slight embarrassment. She’s fond of Keith and Lance too, regardless of the trouble she’s gone through for them. There’s a warm feeling that blossoms inside of her as she thinks of them.

 

“I have faith in them. Now they just need to believe in themselves too.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super short again oops. Oh well tbh lmao. Sooo, I'm trash for multishipping and I lowkey love Shatt too, but like, whatever here, some minor minor Shallura as a break from all the Klance so it doesn't get too boring. Oh mannn the upcoming next two chapters are pretty fucking great. Especially 18 ;))
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!! :3


	17. Soon

Yellow streetlights glow eerily onto the shadowy roads, and while the lights should have given Keith some sort of peace of mind, the unsettling quietness of the streets only serves to horrify him even more. It’s too silent. Large greyish-brown buildings loom over him as he runs around the ghost town at night. It’s too empty. Keith feels chills running up and down his spine every thirty seconds; there is no one visibly chasing him, but everything about this just feels _wrong._ It’s too cold.  
  


Footsteps stalk towards him deliberately, forcing Keith to make a decision between turning around to look at was behind him, or fleeing haplessly. He quickly turns his head over his shoulder. Keith panics even more when he realizes that there’s still no one there at all. The monster behind him is invisible. Even without seeing it, Keith can feel its presence. 

Closer, and closer it came.

 

Keith speeds up his running pace, heart racing wildly. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants out loud, trying to quickly recollect his thoughts before he gets devoured alive. Keith can’t. Everything is just running at him all at once. All in all, he is fucking terrified.

“Go away!!” Keith screams, batting whatever  _ it  _ is away from him.Fear resonates deep inside of him.No one. There’s no one to help him.

“Augh!” He lurches forward, clutching around his throat as he feels his windpipe getting crushed. His entire body stings, almost as if every inch of his skin was covered in scratches and marks, even though he can see some of his unmarked pale skin rising up from his jacket.

Keith tries to fight off an invisible assailant. “H-help me!!” he shrieks, making as much noise to draw the attention to him. He can’t die here. He can’t!

The choking hold refuses to let go of him. His eyesight becomes hazier and hazier as his oxygen levels get painfully low. “Get off!” Keith yells, throwing punch after kick after punch, attempting to make a connection, leaving a damaging blow.

_ Where is… Where is…? _ “L-Lance! Wh-Where are you?! I need y- you!” he screams over and over, knowingly using up all the air. Lance will be here. Lance will come for him. That’s what he’s always done for Keith. The fight still pulses inside of him, wasting his precious reserves.

It feels like several minutes, although it probably is only a few seconds. “L-l-Lance!” Keith calls again, feeling despair seep into his bones. Nothing. There is no one to save him. Keith is all alone again. He shouldn’t have trusted anyone. They were never going to come running when he was in trouble anyways. It was much better when he was alone.

“Lance, pl-please!” he cries out weakly for his last attempt. The silence mocks him, driving home the fact that there is only nothingness out there. Keith feels as though he should be resigned to his fate.   
  


But no. Once more.   
  


“LANCE!” Keith screeches, somehow managing to wrench himself away from the ghost. Light wind takes down his back, making chills run through him. His knees scrape the ground, and even without the hands around his neck, he still feels it like a collar, branding him forever as a pet to the darkness that lurks.

He gets up from the ground and begins to stagger away. “F- fuck-”  
  


Keith feels a warmth envelop him, and while he still feels wary about it, he welcomes the comfort that it brings him. He knows that the darkness will eventually be back, but hopefully, with this gentle aura, he won’t be as scared anymore. Keith keeps walking forward, not once looking back, feeling hope begin to erase the tainted collar.

 

* * *

 

Lance wakes up to Keith thrashing wildly beside him.  
  


It only takes one accidental kick at his shin for Lance for all the drowsiness of sleep to completely vanish. Keith’s sweaty t-shirt presses against Lance’s arms as he tries to hit everything that touches him. Fists swing left and right, not strong enough to leave a severe mark, but enough for it hurt Lance, not that he cares about himself in this moment though.

 

He reaches out to push away anything that could potentially get broken, hitting away any stray hits that come close to anything fragile. “Shit, uh- Keith...” Lance swears loudly, trying to remember what those articles he had read on nightmares said about this sort of situation.

One hand strokes his drenched black hair, trying to turn it into a soothing repetitive pattern. Any sort of constant gently motion always helped him and his siblings fall asleep when they were younger. “Calm down. It’s okay…” he whispers.   
  


Keith’s violent movements still continue, but less force than they had originally. Lance continues to take all the hits without any complaints. He lets his other arm drape on Keith’s waist without restricting his movements too much. If he completely stopped them, then Keith may fight back even more unconsciously.   
  


With every caress, Lance repeats his words like a mantra.

_ “I’m right here. I’m right here. I’m right here.”  
_

He keeps his voice low as he continues to comfort Keith, who has almost completely stopped fighting at this point. The tension that had ran through his stiffened body lessens with every touch, making him much more pliant in Lance’s arms.  
  


“I won’t ever leave you. No matter how scared you are, no matter how much you want to flee from your feelings, no matter whatever happens to me, I’ll be here. I’ll be here for you,” he says quietly, synching their breathing together. “I’ll wait for you, regardless of how long it takes. I’ll wait because I can see there’s beauty in our future, and I’ll get there, staying by your side the entire time.”   
  


Although Lance feels a wave of anxiety after those words come out of his mouth, he tries to push away his racing heartbeat, doubts, and everything in between regret and longing in order to help out the one he cares about so much.  
  


“Hush… breathe Keith. I’m right here. Do you feel me? I’m real.” Lance stops his soothing motions, settling for simply resting his forehead against the back of Keith’s head. His hand still stays tangled in his black hair though. Keith curls closer to the taller boy, breath finally evening out as the nightmare seems to have passed.   
  


And while Lance is relieved that Keith has finally relaxed, those words still resonate inside of Lance, bouncing around in his chest. They’re true.  _ All of it. _ He didn’t just say it for Keith’s sake. In the end, it still means something to him. Lance’s feelings- all right there in the open.

 

Yes, he will wait until Keith is ready, but Lance can’t deny that he wants something  _ more. _

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I just realized that I'm over halfway there??? And like- I'm so surprised I've even made it this far?! Also, this story is almost completely plotless lmao. It's not really going anywhere particular, but more of their daily life sort of thing. Y'know that good slice-of-life shit, but fanfic wise I guess. I guess my biggest concern for this would ever become boring, which I really don't want it to ofc. Idk, if anyone has any feedback or suggestions, go ahead and toss it down in the comments or smth 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! :))


	18. Unafraid

Today is different.  


Keith opens his eyes slowly, blinking as he yawns once- twice, wiping away the moisture at his tear ducts. He rolls over, expecting to bump into Lance, only to feel a warm indent in the mattress instead of the road block he expected. Instead of calling for him, Keith lays there in Lance’s bed, staring up at the ceiling. He makes no move to get out from under the warm covers.

The galaxy is sprawled across his stomach and up one side of his shoulder, smelling of something rich and earthy, hints of the scent of rain on the pavement, blending in with a musky, vanilla-cinnamon smell. Of course it smells like soil. There’s blue, black, pink, white, all blending together, spreading to the edges of the plush blanket. Keith can appreciate Lance’s choice in home decor. He blinks.

As much as he would like to distract himself, there’s only a certain amount of time he can look at the white ceiling before he feels restless, not that he isn’t already. There’s something, like a word on the tip of his tongue, that refuses to settle inside of him. It churns, not ready to merely vanish just yet.  


Something has changed, yet everything has stayed the same.

 

There’s just no telling what it is.

 

* * *

 

Like any other day, Keith trudges in late, taking a seat at the counter, where a coffee mug waits for him. His fuel, his energy, all right here.  


“‘Morning Lance,” he mumbles, taking a sip of his drink.

“Oh…hey Keith…” Lance says, back against him. Keith can’t read his face this way, but something is wrong. Again, this knot in his chest, these unsettling waters, stir and shift, rocking waves against his walls.

“Are you okay?” he asks, concern seeping into his voice.

Lance nods, scratching the back of his head. “Yeah, just a bit tired,” he mutters. The other boy still doesn’t turn around to look at him. Keith lets the issue slip through his fingers. He can tell when Lance simply doesn’t want to talk about it, and right now is one of those moments. Plus, Keith still needs to deal with whatever he’s feeling inside.  


It pulls him towards Lance. There’s a faint tingling in his fingers, and all he want to do is bury them in Lance’s soft hair, tugging Lance towards him so they get closer and closer-- Keith shakes his head. His pulse raises several notches. He clenches his hands into fists, breathing in and out, trying to keep his emotions in check. That’s not what he wants… right?

 

_‘I’m right here.’_

_“I won’t ever leave you.’_

_‘I’ll wait.’_

 

Lance’s words from last night bounce around in his head, making his heart ache a little bit. It’s an uncomfortable sensation, almost as if someone else is controlling it, yanking its strings in ways that he didn’t think was possible. A quiet melody made of all the promises, all the things Lance has said to him, play in time with all of Keith’s racing thoughts.

His eyes lock on the back of Lance’s head. Keith wonders what Lance is thinking right now. He wonders if Lance is just as conflicted as he is. He wonders if Lance wants this as much as he does right now. He wonders how long Lance has been holding himself back, and if this is him finally straining under the pressure that Keith hadn’t meant to put on him.  


Keith wonders if it's finally time to free fall.  


He was mistaken to think that he could somehow prepare for the feeling of being completely absorbed into someone, to prepare for the feeling of being absolutely lost in the raging emotions he has for Lance. There is no way he could ever be ready for what it’s like to trust someone with all the parts of himself. Those dirty hidden corners that he’s always tried so hard to avoid, or clean, or cut out of his life, are made clean, into something warm, into another piece of him that he can finally put to rest.  


Lance is changing him for the better.  


Keith still carries the same weight, the same baggage before Lance even walked into his life, but with Lance, he’s learning to accept, he’s learning to see the world in a different light. Maybe it’s time for him to look at their relationship in a different light too. Maybe he should try harder now.

That’s not to say that he isn’t fucking scared, or already planning on how to build himself up again after he falls apart, because let’s face it, someone who’s only seen the negative parts of life is always going to assume that everything good will never last. In his mind, he can already see the end of it all, even before it’s begun. That’s terrifying to think that someone he’s willing to trust with the keys to his heart may someday end up breaking it. Keith knows this mentality of his is always going to around. It’s just a matter of whether he’s willing to allow Lance to do that to him eventually. It’s just a matter of whether he’s willing to suffer after everything’s been said and done.  


Maybe the scariest part is that, yes, Keith would do it in a heartbeat.

If it’s Lance, he’d willing to push past his apprehension to do that for him, especially with all Lance has done for him, with all the times he’s proven himself as someone Keith could give himself to wholeheartedly.  


A burst of courage explodes inside of Keith, giving the boost that he needs to finally get over his hurdle of unsolved issues and inner conflicts. Only Lance’s name is running through his mind, with his body wanting to slot itself perfectly into his Lance’s arms, and lips, and life. Keith slides off of his stool and pads towards where Lance is mixing up a mixture for either waffles or pancakes. He taps Lance’s shoulder.

 

Lance turns around. “Keit-”

 

Before he can even finish saying Keith’s name, Keith already has one of his hands at the back of Lance’s neck, guiding him down, and his other buried deep in his brown hair, tufts sticking out between his fingers. His slightly chapped lips meet Lance’s softer ones, kissing him gently at first only for the fire inside of him to light up, bringing him to push back with more passion. Keith’s purple eyes are shut, too scared to see the result after he opens them once again. Lance could push him away, Lance could hurt him- _no_ .  


Lance would never.  


It takes Keith a second to realize through the haze of his mind, and the thought that he is enjoying this, that while Lance may be responding, only his lips are really doing anything. There’s no embrace around his waist. The heat is only one sided. Lance is just standing there, softness moving mechanically. It hits Keith like a lightning strike- _this is all a mistake._

Keith pushes Lance away suddenly, like he’s been scalded. And well, perhaps in a sense, he has. Reality has struck him through his fantasies, calling him a fool for believing that Lance wants any of this. Really, he just forced himself on Lance.  


“Ah- uh… I’m s- sorry. I sh- shouldn’t have done that-” he stutters, backing up into one of the edges of the kitchen island. Keith can’t look at Lance’s frozen state, hair mussed, lips red, eyes blown wide open without feeling a sense of shame. He looks down at his feet, covering his face.  


Lance doesn’t say anything. Instead, he moves closer to Keith, who is frantically searching for an excuse for his actions, only to come up with a simple _‘I’m finally ready,’_ and throwing it away right after because it just doesn’t seem good enough. He stops in front of Keith and removes his hands slowly from his face, making Keith look up at him.

There’s an unreadable look on his face, and Keith’s heart is threatening to simply break into pieces. They stay there for a second, Keith’s face in Lance’s hands, staring at each other as if they’re the only people in the world.

Suddenly, Lance’s lips are on his again, moving away from gentle and more towards longing and relief. They kiss like each other’s mouths are the oxygen that runs in their veins, and while that may be a cliche, that is all the Keith can get through the wave after wave of something that can only really be described as love.

If Lance is the sun, then Keith will be Icarus. If Lance is the water, then Keith is swimming inside of him, deeper and deeper until he can no longer distinguish the difference between up and down. If Lance is all things beautiful, then Keith will be the wildfire that consumes him. If Lance- if Lance is himself, then Keith will simply be Keith.

 

Here they are in a messy apartment, melting underneath each touch until they resemble something that was once two different people living two different lives.  


Soft and rough.

Day and night.

 

 

 

 _Lance and Keith._  


 

 

When they finally break away, but not really considering how Lance is still wrapped around Keith and how Keith refuses let go of Lance’s face now, they look at each other again. They smile at each other, knowing that this is only the beginning of something beautiful. The future is always coming, but the thing that Lance has been wishing for since Keith stumbled inside of his apartment, drunk out of his mind and a little bit lonely, has arrived. They’re bound to struggle and hurt, yet honestly- they could care less.  
  


The pain is worth it.  


“Oh man… we really need to work on our timing,” Keith says breathily, eyes glazed and cheeks flushed.

“That’s a good look on you,” Lance whispers, grinning widely. Keith rolls his eyes, lowering his hands so that they’re loosely linked together around Lance’s neck. Lance, in turn, braces his hands against the counter to give them enough space to talk, but still be close enough to kiss without too much effort.

“You should look at yourself,” Keith shoots back, smiling fondly at him. Lance coughs, but blushes harder anyways, still having a goofy love-struck look on his face.

His mischievous grin morphs into something more serious after a second. “Are we really doing this?” Lance asks, searching Keith’s indigo eyes for any speck of hesitation or anything that may say ‘no.’

Keith blinks at him. “I guess we are,” he says, heart beating loudly in his ears as he tries to fight his instincts to flee. There’s no need for him to run away from Lance, because in the end, with him waiting beside Keith, he’ll still end up coming back to Lance anyways.

“Let’s go all the way then,” Lance murmurs. He takes a deep breath in. “Would you like to be my boyfriend Keith?”  


Keith brings him closer, pressing a gentle kiss against Lance’s lips.

 

 

“Well, of course.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MAN, I LOVED WRITING THIS CHAPTER UGH. THEY ARE JUST SO PURE AND JUST- YES?!!!  
> s/o to mah bois, Kewl, Gravy and LateBlue (thanks for the support, have yet to figure out if I know you somehow lolol) 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed :)) (I sure did lolol)


	19. Song

Falling in love is much like a storm, and waking up, and a song. Falling in love is many things, and easily comprehensible is not one of them.

Before Keith met Lance, love was a scary thing. Love was all about forming long-lasting connections, not simply anything that was temporary and could be ignored after it had served its purpose. As someone who hopped around around from foster family to foster family, social services, and the streets, Keith grew up knowing that nothing was going to last, and nothing was ever going to last. He became afraid of permanent, for at least with temporary, you could always start over. Permanent meant growing roots, meant giving someone pieces of you that nobody should ever see, meant that when it was all over, everything he knew would crumble.

Love is still harsh, but it is also understanding. It is patience, gentle touches, soft kisses, laughter, and anything the sun touches. It is also in arguments, shouting, fighting, and in hurting, for if nothing ever mattered, then why fight so passionately? Love is beautiful and ugly and completely objective. Love is something completely and utterly complex.

And while love may be something Keith still has no handle on, he’s still here, isn’t he?

 

* * *

 

Keith lies down on Lance’s bed, writing away in his journal as Lance sits on a plastic office chair next to his small desk, which Keith refused to take, complaining that his back was just going to hurt. Lance’s leg is crossed horizontally on his knee as he props a guitar on it. He strums chords quietly, low voice sometimes vocalizing the tune only to quiet himself again. Keith is only partially listening, tending to drown out anything that isn’t currently directly involved with the task he’s doing at the moment.

They go like this for several hours, not needing to say a word to each other, content to simply sit in each other’s presence without adventuring outdoors, being dragged to new places, or fooling around. There’s a calming simplicity in their relationship where the value of silence is also being appreciated, coexisting side-by-side, feeling quite close, but not touching either.

When Keith finally finishes flushing out all the words in his system, he begins to register the song that Lance is singing.

 

 _‘I don't need you to sell me on reasons to want you_ _  
_ _I don't need you to search for the proof that I should_ _  
_ _You don't have to convince me_ _  
_ _You don't have to be scared you're not enough_   
'Cause what we've got going is good’

 

This time, it seems to be Lance that has tuned out. He doesn’t notice as Keith shifts, drawing much closer to him, entranced by the emotion and lull in his voice. It’s as if somehow, the flow of the lyrics make themselves apparent to Keith. It sounds slightly familiar to Keith, but he doesn’t quite remember where he had heard them before. All he knows is that Lance is making it sound absolutely beautiful.

 

_‘So what if it's us_

_What if it's us_

_And only us_ _  
_ _And what came before won't count anymore or matter_   
Can we try that?’

 

At this point, Keith is digging out his phone, searching for the lyrics to the song. He isn’t a singer, but honestly, he’s willing to try. The lyrics tug at his heart in the same way that Lance does, and while Lance sounds wonderful on his own, he really wants to sing this with him.

 

 _‘What if it's you_ _  
_ _And what if it's me_ _  
_ _And what if that's all that we need it to be_ _  
_ _And the rest of the world falls away_   
What do you say?’

 

**_“I never thought there'd be someone like you who would want me”_ **

 

Lance’s eyes shoot to Keith, clearly surprised. Keith isn’t the type to sing, and Lance would know, considering how many times he’s tried to get Keith to do a duet with him, only to be shot down. Keith sings in the shower, which is how Lance found out that Keith can sing, and quite well honestly. Unfortunately, he’s much too insecure to sing in front of people, even Lance. Maybe he should have seen this coming. Keith is opening up to him, just like how Lance has opened up.

His voice is a bit gravelly, but Lance finds it absolutely amazing, considering how Lance only ever plays this song on the rare days Keith ends up falling asleep before him. He didn’t think that Keith would actually remember it. Lance lowers his volume, but continues to sing, making sure that Keith follows along with him. Keith’s attention is divided between Lance’s soft smile and the lyrics on his dull phone screen.

 

**_‘So I give you ten thousand reasons to not let me go_ **

**_But if you really see me_ **

**_If you like me for me and nothing else_ **

**_Well, that's all that I've wanted for longer that you could possibly know’_ **

 

Keith’s heart is pounding too fast, anxiety slowly taking over. He can feel himself slowing down, freezing in place as the words begin to blur. Lance looks at him, giving him a silent good job with his eyes. Keith is strong enough to get through it on his own, but he’s simply stronger with Lance with him.

 

 **_It's not so impossible_ ** _  
_ **_Nobody else but the two of us here_ ** _  
_ **_Cause you're saying it's possible_ ** _  
_ _We can just watch the whole world disappear_ _  
_ **_Til you're the only one I still know how to see_ ** _  
_ **_It's just you and me_ **

 

It’s far from perfect. There are some parts out of tune, not quite in synch, and some parts where it just doesn’t fit together in the way it’s supposed to. They don’t mind though. If anything, the imperfections make it more fun. They didn’t plan on stopping just because of a small bump in the song. It’s just too much of a waste to cut it short.

 

 _‘It'll be us_ _  
_ _It'll be us_ _  
_ _And only us_   
And what came before won't count anymore’

 

And here it was- the ending, where both their voices got much softer, quieter.

 

 **_‘The world falls away_ ** **_  
_ ** **_And it's only us’_ **

 

The final note rings, suspended in time, only to be ruined as Lance leans forward, kissing Keith. His eyelids flutter shut, savouring the warmth in his chest and the taste of happiness on Lance’s lips. When they pull away, Lance is looking it at him with pride and excitement.  


“I can’t believe you remembered that song!” he exclaims.

Keith tilts his head, slightly confused. “What do you mean, ‘remember?’”

“Well… if you’re singing it, then you must know what I’m talking about,” Lance responds, putting his guitar back on his stand.

“Um… no. Not really… I just searched up the lyrics. Does it mean anything?” Keith asks sheepishly, holding up his phone as proof. He can see Lance’s face fall a little bit before it turns into something close to understanding and realization.

“I should have guessed. I did only play it when I didn’t think you were listening,” Lance mumbles. “It’s just a song from a musical I like, and it just reminded me so much of you that sometimes I just end up somehow switching from a completely irrelevant tune and morphing into this.”

Keith grins. “You _nerd._ ” He punches Lance’s shoulder lightly. “But that’s what I like about you,” he adds softly.

Lance rolls his eyes. “Well thanks,” he says, only partially sarcastically. Lance looks past where Keith is sitting and to the journal that’s on the bed. “Can I see your poems?”

“Hmmm… can you?” Keith teases.

 

He snorts, before lunging at Keith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is meh.... honestly, I'm getting kinda stumped... oh well. Also- Lance is a theatre nerd, and I will fight for my boi.  
> Song is Only Us from Dear Evans Hansen
> 
> I hope you enjoyed!! (I guess lolol)


	20. Colour

While Keith may spend a concerning amount of time in Lance’s apartment, he still does live in his apartment. Honestly, the amount of time he spends outside of his place would have been concerning for any other tenant, but considering he’s not very close friends with anyone, except for maybe that nice, yet sketchy cat lady that lives four downs down from him, he’s not particularly concerned about being called in as “missing.” The only thing that’s getting hurt here is his wallet. He’s not around for the price to actually be worth it. If anything, he’s paying for a space and dust bunnies.  


Oh well, Keith will just deal with that when it becomes a bigger problem. For now, his main concern is that someone might drop in and ruin his prime alone time with his couch-

Two raps come from the door.

He groans and rolls straight off the couch, then picks himself up from the ground. Keith lazily trudges towards the door. He double checks to see if it’s who he thinks it is before he turns the locks.  


Lance is standing on the other side, donned in his usual parka. “Hi, uh… I just stopped by to drop off photos I printed off from our trips,” he says. Keith notices the envelope that’s sticking out of his huge pockets.

 

“Oh- come in then.” Keith walks inside with Lance following behind him. “You know, I was bonding with my couch before you showed up.”

“You probably have a better relationship with my bed over this old thing,” Lance snorts, flopping lazily on the said couch. Keith takes a seat beside him, which only prompts Lance to drop his feet on Keith’s lap.

As much as he hates to admit it, it’s actually quite comfortable, so Keith doesn’t make a move to push Lance off. “If you’re gonna insult my couch, you can sit on the floor,” he responds instead.

Lance wrinkles his nose at that thought. “That’s so awkward for someone as tall as me. My crossed legs would just look weird as fuck,” he says, frowning. “Well anyways, here.” Lance hands Keith the envelope.  


Keith opens it, pulling out the entire stack. The first photo is Keith looking up golden leaves, framed in red and orange. It’s an impressive candid shot, capturing the wonder and awe on his face with the path opening up behind him. Keith remembers rushing Lance, and even then, the shot turned out perfect.  


“Holy crap… these are amazing Lance,” he says, almost reverently.

Lance grins. “Heh, thanks.”  


Picture after picture, all the shots capture the memories in perfect clarity. Keith goes through all of them in succession. There are photos of them splashing around in the water, pictures of migrating birds, candid photos of Keith sleeping (which Keith rolled his eyes at), and a whole bunch when they had all gone camping. Lance had gotten Pidge jumping on Shiro, Hunk jumping backwards because the flame was “too close,” and even Pidge and Keith with their backs to him and talking to each other near the trees. Lance even managed to get selfie in there with Keith, and that’s a huge surprise in itself, considering how unphotogenic Keith is (much to everyone’s protests.)  


Here is happiness, preserved in his hands.

“Sorry they aren’t black and white,” Lance apologizes after Keith puts them back in the envelope. “I know you love your monochrome.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. I like it,” Keith points to their framed t-shirts on the wall. “You’ve dyed my life with color, making it so much brighter,” he says softly

 

Lance and Keith exchange a look and a small smile, reveling in the fact that there will never be anyone quite like the other.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooboy, I was too tired to post a chapter yesterday. Oops ^^; I feel like this story is slowing down a lot and getting boring, but hopefully the upcoming chapters will change it up a little ;))


	21. Mend

So, maybe Keith should learn to set some alarms, or not sleep so late. Although, let’s be real, neither of that is ever going to happen.   
  


Really, he should have learned his lesson on not taking naps before he has to go be productive. Adrenaline pumps through him as he rushes around the apartment, trying to find his keys (honestly, why is it so hard; his apartment is literally eighty percent empty space.) 

Keith is halfway through the door with his jacket inside out and the white laces of his red trailing on the ground when Lance decides to call him.

 

“Hey Keith!” Lance exclaims, way too loud and way too happy for the anxious Keith.

“What is it?” he snaps impatiently.

“Oh… jeez, I’m  _ sorry _ ,” Lance responds, voice a mixture of annoyance and hurt. “I was just going to ask for some help in organizing my apartment.”

“Yeah, you do need it, don’t you,” Keith retorts hostiley, regretting it almost immediately after it was out in the open.

“Why do you think I’m doing this huh?” he says frustratedly. Lance takes a deep breathe in.  “Well, anyways, can you?” There’s a bit of hope in his sentence, even after Keith’s bitchy outbursts.

“Ah shit… I’m going to be late,” Keith grumbles, locking the door and sprinting down his stairs. “I can’t. I have work today, but maybe I can stop by afterwards.” His footsteps echo loudly, sounding much more violent than they actually were.

“Keith…” he says faintly.

“You’ll be fine….” Keith responds, almost as if he were waving Lance off like a child. He doesn’t answer back, instead, leaving a gap of silence. 

He stops in his tracks. “Hello?” Keith asks, pulling the phone away from his ear.

 

Lance had already hung up.

 

* * *

 

 

In the end, Keith didn’t stop by Lance’s place. 

 

 

* * *

 

Keith stands in front of Lance’s apartment the next day, waiting for him to open the door and welcome him inside or something like that. He could easily walk in by himself, but they usually respected each other’s privacy and waited until they were formally let in before they entered   
  


 

“Lance…? Are you in there?” he asks, repeating himself again and again, louder each time. “Yo, Lance? I’m here to help you out now! I couldn’t find time yesterday!”   
  


Nothing. Radio static. Silence.  
  


Keith stands there awkwardly, arms swinging side to side. He clears his throat. “Well uh… I don’t know if you’re in there, or maybe I’m shouting at the door like a crazy person, but if you’re in there, I’ll call you later! If not, I’m so sorry to your neighbours.” Keith backs away, still keeping the door in his peripheral vision, hoping that maybe Lance is just in the washroom.

 

He comes up with different scenarios in his head on his way out, pretending that everything is going to be just fine.  __ Oh-!  
  


Maybe he’s just with Hunk.... 

 

* * *

 

 

Or not.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

**[21 missed calls]**

**[54 missed texts]**

**[10 voicemails]**

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

_ “Hey it’s Keith, are you okay? Please call me back when you get this.” _

 

_ “So uh.. I see you didn’t call back. These are getting through right? Well, whatever. You know my number. Call or text me back.” _

 

_ “Is this desperate? I don’t care, well, I care about you- ugh… no that doesn’t work. How do I make this sound genuine. Fuck, whatever, maybe I’ll call Allu-” _

 

_ “Hunk says you’ve been sending them a daily meme as usual, but hadn’t shown up to the hangout you’ve been talking about for weeks. This isn’t like you at all. He says that you’re just sending them one word answers. Are they worth more more to you now? Why don’t I get anything-” _

 

_ “Lance… I- fuck, how do I delete a message… shi-” _

 

_ “Did I do something wrong? What’s happening? I’m so confused Lance.” _

 

_ “You’re leaving all my messages on read. I know you’re online. Are you icing me out? You know I’m not good at this type of shit. I have no idea what to do. I don’t understand. Why-” _

 

_ “*loud sniffling, frequent shuffling* Shit… you’re not supposed to hear that, uh- fuck, I told myself I wouldn’t fucking cry-” _

 

_ “You’re worrying me Lance. Send me sign or something. I can’t keep waiting like this.” _

 

_ “I’m coming over.” _

 

 

* * *

 

Keith is inside of Lance’s apartment, privacy be fucked. It’d been three long days without Lance, and while Keith is willing to give him space, getting no response from someone who spams him with messages everyday, or at least used to, is not very fun nor reassuring.

 

“Lance?” he calls, padding cautiously around.  


 

His voice sounds harsh against the unnatural silence of his apartment. There’s usually always music on, or at least some sort of noise to indicate Lance is around. It’s still super messy, and he can tell that Lance had made no effort to clean at all. If anything, it’s actually stayed the same, which leads Keith to believe that the disaster zone is inside his room.

Keith walks in, immediately recognizing the lump underneath the covers as Lance. He manoeuvres around mounds of clothes and tossed pillows to get to where he is right beside the bed. A whitish light glows through layers of blankets, even though it’s fairly warm already.  


 

“Lance…?” Keith asks, yanking the covers off of him.

He scrambles backwards, getting as far away from Keith as he can.“Don’t touch me-” Lance looks at him warily, registering who it is.“Oh, it’s just you,” he says flatly.

Keith’s eyebrows knit together. Hurt and concern run through him simultaneously. “Lance…? Are you okay? What’s going on? You haven’t been responding to anything,” he responds gently, trying to extract some answers from him, but in a way that this hostility isn’t completely directed at him.

 

Lance wraps his arms around his knees, drawing them closer to his chest. His phone lies on the bed beside him, still turned on to some Youtube video he was watching.

 

“You hate me. I’m just some annoying little speck that doesn’t matter. Just flick me away. I don’t care anymore. This is what happens when I let people in anyways. I just end up being a burden,” he mutters, looking down at the bed, finding it hard to look at Keith in the eye.

“That isn’t true at all! Who told you that?” Keith exclaims, sounding offended on Lance’s behalf.

“You’re acting like it Keith…” Lance mumbles, shrinking even further into himself.

Keith looked down at his hands in horror. “Lance, no! You’re none of those things. You matter so much to me…” he says, trying to comfort him.

“It didn’t felt like it when you just dismissed me like I didn’t matter,” Lance responds.

“I had work! For fucks sake-” Keith protests, only to decide to let this one go. “Well, fine. I’m sorry. I guess I come off as inconsiderate at times. I’m sorry for being such a jerk. Just please, come on. It isn’t healthy for you to be there,” he amends, trying to dig into to the fact that he is truly feeling guilty. 

“And it isn’t healthy for me to feel so shitty over the smallest things, but guess what, I’m still doing it,” he retorts, sounding bitter and extremely sarcastic. His words are aimed to pierce through armour, and with precision too. Lance may be a kind person for the most part, but in many stories, it’s those archetypes that are damaged the most.

“Lance… this negativity isn’t going to solve anything. We both know that,” Keith reprimands.

 

Silence hangs dangerously in the balance.

 

“I don’t completely forgive you,” Lance says bluntly, breaking the uneasy quiet.

“I’m-” Keith gets cut off.

He begins to uncurl, finally meeting Keith’s eyes. “But I guess sometimes the things within our walls bubble over…” 

“I swear, this isn’t going to happen ever again Lance,” Keith vows.

Lance looks at him seriously. “Trust comes slow Keith. You, out of all people, should know that.”

He nods. “I’ll make it up to you. But, you know, you need to tell me what’s going on too. If I am hurting your feelings, be honest with me. I’m not going to know things right off the bat. As you can tell, I’m not the most socially competent. Cutting me out isn’t helping either of us,” Keith says, shifting his stance so his hip didn’t hurt.

“Fine…” Lance answers reluctantly.

Keith extends a hand to pull him from the bed. “Now come on, get up. I’ll help you clean your apartment.”

Lance grabs on, standing up for the first time in over twenty-four hours, not that Keith needs to know that. “Fuck that… actually don’t, but I’m starving.” The granola bars beside his bed weren’t gonna last him forever. Also something Keith doesn’t need to know.

“Okay, then let’s go get some food. On me,” Keith responds.

He grins cheekily. “That’s one of the nicest things you’ve ever said to me.” Lance’s smile morphs into something more sober. “But in all seriousness, thanks Keith,” he replies; this time with a more positive vibe, easing the tensions between them. It’s really all part of a relationship.

“Free food isn’t much-” Keith began.

Lance rolls his eyes. “Not that.”

It clicks.“Oh… yeah.” Keith trails off. “I’m going to keep my word. Hold me to that.”

 

 

“I will.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually really liked writing this chapter, oh man. RSD Lance, not bad tbh. Thanks to [Grey](http://archiveofourown.org/users/computedwings280/pseuds/computedwings280) for helping me out with an idea for this chapter
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!!


	22. Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Collab with [Grey](http://archiveofourown.org/users/computedwings280/pseuds/computedwings280)

Cold and cloudy days drained any sort of desire to be productive, which meant that Lance and Keith lounged around the entire day, only getting up to go to the washroom or grab some food from the steadily depleting supply in Lance’s fridge. Lance refuses to close his blinds, saying that no one’s going to see them anyways and that he’s trying to milk the last rays of light, ignoring the fact that the sun sets at around seven-thirty, and it’s already past nine.   
  


Keith and Lance are watching some old NCIS episodes when Lance’s phone goes off in the middle of Gibbs giving out orders. Selena Gomez continues to play as Lance rolls around, trying to find where exactly his phone is. Keith pauses the show and also moves over to help him.

 

He holds it up victoriously when he retrieves it from the edge of his bed frame. “Yes!” Lance exclaims, hitting the answer button. “Hello?”

“Huh… yeah. No, we aren’t. Oh hush, I know. You need what? Yeah okay, give me a sec,” he says, covering the phone slightly with one hand as he makes eye contact with the curious Keith. “Do you mind writing something out?” 

“Me?” Keith points to himself. Lance nods. “I’ll use notes.”

“Okay. So what is it again?” he asks the person on the other side of the line. “Crisco, two boxes of unsalted butter, vanilla extract, and parchment paper?” Keith writes them down as Lance confirms them. “Yeah okay. The store’s still open. Closes at eleven, which gives around two hours. See you later. Bye Hunk.” Lance ends the call.

“Ah, so it was Hunk asking for some ingredients for an order, I’m guessing?” Keith sends Lance the memo, then shuts off the laptop. 

“Uhuh. You wanna come with? The fridge is also getting a bit empty,” Lance says, getting up from the bed and stretching up towards his ceiling.

“I’m lazy though!” Keith whines.

He shrugs. “Okay then, I guess I’ll be going alone and coming home with everything but the things that we actually need, like the last time, when I bought that giant bag of ice because it was too hot, only to watch the back of my car drown in water since I forgot about it for a week.”

 

Keith shakes his head. “ _I’m coming, I’m coming_. Wait up.”

 

* * *

Lance and Keith stare out at the sea of vegetables and fruits, crossing their arms intimidatingly as they assess the situation. Actually, to be honestly, Keith has no idea why they’re doing this, only that Lance told him to do it for the aesthetic. He taps his foot impatiently, waiting for Lance to pull up the list again.

 

“So, how are we going to tackle this?” Lance asks, scrunching up his nose, faint freckles moving up on his face.

Keith fights the urge to stare. “Lance, it’s literally four things,” he says, turning his head away from Lance’s adorable face. He’s going to spontaneously combust from the  _ “feels” _ (as Pidge and Hunk call it) if he doesn’t look away immediately.

“Yeah so? Have you ever been in a mall? They trap you in there for fifteen minutes and you end up coming out three hours later,” Lance shoots back, speaking as if he’s some sort of veteran in these battles.

“Isn’t that just time management?” Keith asks, furrowing his eyebrows and tilting his head slightly. He rests a hand at his waist, hip slightly cocked.

“Eh maybe? I don’t know,” Lance says, shrugging carelessly. “But anyways, wanna have a race?”

Keith looks back at Lance with confusion clear on his face. “What?”

“Y’know, to get all four first,” he answers, showing Keith the list of ingredients again.

He frowns. “We’ll be buying double the ingredients.”

Lance shakes his head. “Nah, we’ll put back one set. Extra challenge: don’t get yelled at by the staff,” he dares Keith teasingly, knowing he’s not going to back down from a direct provocation like that.

“Oh it’s on.” Keith rubs his hands together.

He grins. “Ready? Three, two one- bye bye bitch!” Lance sprints off without counting down completely. Truth be told, Keith should have seen that coming.   
  


“Lance what the fuck?! Every time!!” he shouts, dashing away.

 

 

They spend the next thirty minutes hiding from staff members, sab otaging each other, and rushing around the store. Lance spots Keith in the baking aisle as he passed by, searching for the vanilla extract, but unbeknownst to Keith, he had taken some extra time earlier to hide them within the food coloring. In retaliation, Keith stole all of the butter bars, jacket and waistband stuffed with boxes. There was nowhere in their agreement that playing dirty was forbidden.

All in all, getting all four ingredients on their own turned out to be impossible.

 

 

In the middle of one aisle, Lance catches sight of Keith again, this time reaching for the Crisco. With a yelp, Lance launches himself down the aisle but not before Keith has it in his grip.  
  


“Oh no no no no! No you do not! That is  _ mine!”  _ He hisses before skidding to a halt in front of Keith who only just smirks at him at first. 

“Nope! I got it fair and square!” He chirps, smirk still gracing his lips. Lance narrows his eyes at him and cans him over. 

“Are you  _ serious _ is that boxes of butter!” Lance gapes at all of the boxes stuffed into his clothing. Keith’s eyes flicker down to them before returning to Lance. 

“Yeah, well you hid the vanilla so..” Lance huffs at Keith’s complaint.

“ _ You _ got the Crisco!” 

“Wait… and I have the parchment paper, which means...” Lance trails off.

The realization strikes Keith too. “Oh. Is that it? We’re done?”

He shrugs. “I guess so”

“We’re fucking idiots,” Keith groans, laughing a little bit.

“I mean, you’re definitely not the smartest cookie.” Lance grins when Keith shoots him a halfhearted glare. “Although, we should return all the butter we don’t need, and fix up the vanilla.”

“But do we  _ have _ to?” Keith asks, whining slightly.

“Eh, I don’t feel like it either.” Lance responds, checking to make sure they have everything that Hunk asked for before glancing over at Keith again. “How about we just- forget the plundering never happened, and we act as if we’re normal customers. We d _ o _ need to do our grocery shopping too.”

Keith nods and shifts a bit, moving the items in his arms around. He shoves the boxes of butter into a random fridge. “I’m with you on that.”

“Let’s go get a cart then,” he says, tilting his head back towards the entrance of the store. Lance smirks.

“Race you there!” He shouts before tearing off towards the carts without a warning. Keith lets out a yelp and follows behind him, hot on his heels.

 

 

Lance is beaming when Keith comes skidding over to the cart. He sulks a bit as he set his items in the cart. “You cheated,” he states plainly, giving Lance a bit of a look. Lance just shrugs and begins pushing the cart back towards the aisles. 

“It’s not my fault you just weren’t fast enough,” Lance chirps with a slight grin still on his face. Keith rolls his eyes and follows after, falling silent for a moment. 

“So what exactly are we getting?” Keith asks as his eyes wanders over the items on the shelves. 

“Dunno,” Lance says lightly, leaning over the cart as he lazily pushes it down the aisle. After a moment he perks up with a grin. Lance pushes away from the cart to go pick up something off the shelf. Lance hides the item against his chest as he turns to Keith.

“So I was talking to Pidge the other day when she brought up something, but I didn’t want to _ taco _ ‘bout it,” Lance says mischievously as he faces the box of hard taco shells towards the other male.  Keith stares on for a moment before snorting, letting out a small fit of laughter. 

“Are you kidding? That was a pretty stale joke, Lance,” Keith retorts, trying to bite back his smile. A laugh bubbles up from Lance’s chest. After a moment, his laughter dies down and he grins at Keith who’s eyes flickers away from the edges of his tender gaze to look at the other food items.

“Alright, we should probably actually get our stuff, and preferably before the store closes,” Keith says as he returned his gaze to Lance. With a determined look, Lance nodded. 

“Step aside we’re going to speed shop this,” Lance says, shooing Keith away from the cart. He holds onto the handles and shoots Keith a grin before racing down the aisle. As he spots an item he found to suit his fancy, Lance skids to a halt before knocking it into the basket. Keith keeps up and snags a few things as well. Eventually they accumulate quite the assortment: chocolate cereal, tea, fruit-by-the-foot (that Lance insisted on buying), and a few other items. Lance pulls into the freezer section, dragging his foot as to stop the cart as they came upon the ice cream. 

“Honestly, i- _ ce cream _ for this stuff all the time,” Lance says offhandedly as he goes over to inspect the various types. Keith snorts and browses on his own.. His eyes fall upon some special edition stuff that was just chocolate loaded. Keith smirks and pulls the freezer door open, allowing the cool steam to pour over him as he reaches in for the tub. As he does so, Lance already has half of his body in the freezer, pushing aside tubs to grab something. Keith drops the tub into their cart and cocks an eyebrow as Lance still digs around in the freezer. Not a moment later, Lance emerges with an armful of ice cream tubs. 

“We’ve got my favorite, mint chocolate chip, neapolitan -a classic-, and finally fudge pops because who doesn’t like fudge pops?” Lance lists off before unloading the ice cream into the cart.

“Yeah, they’d have to be  _ fudging _ you if they said so,” Keith says casually, causing Lance to grin. 

“Oooh that was good. You’re pretty  _ punny _ , Kogane,” Lance responds with a chuckle before taking control of the cart and heading towards the front.

“You think this is good?” He asks, hopping up onto the back of the cart as it rolls down the aisle. Keith hums with a small nod. 

“Yeah, I’d say so.. Besides we want to get to Hunk’s and back to your place before the ice cream melts, so we should hurry anyway,” Keith adds on.  Lance lets out a yelp and hopping down before booking it for the cashier.   
  


“Shit! You’re right!”

 

They unload their items and place each bag back in the cart before speeding back off so they could hurry to Hunk’s.   
  


* * *

On the car ride to Hunk’s, Keith hops into the driver’s seat once everything was loaded into Lance’s Jeep. With windows rolled down, a comfortable silence washes over them. Lance settles into his seat, letting his hand stick out the window some to catch the air. It’s comforting to feel the pressure of the wind against his palm and blowing between his outstretched fingers. There’s something calming about that feeling of the cold, constant stream of air, almost as if it’s becoming something solid in the palm of his hands. 

Lance dips his face into the cool breeze, allowing his hair to be pushed back as he squeezes his eyes shut. If he imagines hard enough, it could be like he is dipping his face into an inky black pool of water. When he pulls his head away from the window though, he doesn’t come back dripping and with his hair clinging to his skin. Instead, he comes back with a chill-bitten nose and cheeks and unruly hair. Lance casts a glance over to Keith as he continues to play with the wind with his right hand. 

Keith has one hand peeking out the window as well, but unlike Lance, whose hair had been pushed back for the most part, Keith’s hair seems to be caught in a dance with the wind. It twists and twirls as the wind whirls into the car, catching strands of hair. It’s almost entrancing watching his hair get whipped around. Each chunk of hair meets the wind for a face paced dance around Keith’s head. Lance smiles softly as he watches Keith. Seeming to sense he is being watched, Keith’s gaze flickers from the road to Lance for a second. Lance’s eyes darts to the road, and he resumes waving his hand through the wind, not having noticed he stopped.

 

Lance allows himself to get lost in the cool breeze for the remainder of the drive, eyes occasionally drifting to Keith now and again. No words are exchanged, but none needed to be anyways.

 

* * *

Hunk has known Lance and Keith long enough to have seen the many, many weird things they decide to put themselve through in competition with each other and the rest of their friends, and while he tries to reason with them, he’s learned that there’s almost nothing a normal person could do to understand their motives and attempt to calm them down.  


 

So when he finds Keith and Lance panting heavily at his doorstep, weakly holding up the bag of ingredients and items he asked for, Hunk manages to push four words out of his mouth through all his confusion and concern. “Are you two… okay?”

“Yeah, we’re fine. We just had a race up your stairs,” Keith answers, wiping away the sweat droplets on his forehead. He hands off the bag to Hunk.

“Uhm, there’s water inside if you need it,” Hunk tails off uncertainly, retreating into his kitchen.

“Ah, thanks Hunk, you’re a lifesaver!” Lance praises him, going inside, followed by Keith. They walk to some counter seats as they watch Hunk take out all the ingredients from the bag, setting it beside his massive mixer bowl.

“No problem. Ignore the mess, I was looking for the all the things I got you to buy for me because I didn’t realize I was out. Plus, it doesn’t hurt to replenish my stocks,” Hunk says, back in his domain. 

“Where’s Pidge?” Lance asks, looking around. “It’s too quiet.”

Hunk suppresses a laugh at his words. “She’s out for dinner. Shiro and Matt came barging in and dragged her off for a family dinner. Pidge didn’t seem surprised, but more reluctant to go, so I’m just gonna guess that they gave her a heads up at she didn’t listen to,” he responds, shrugging.

Keith grins. “I bet Pidge is going to flip if there’s no ice cream dessert,  _ and _ it’s a fancy restaurant they’re going to,” he says, already picturing the disaster.

“The odds aren’t very good that Pidge wouldn’t do it.” Hunk pretends to calculate the odds of it happening. Well, actually he did, but he’s just going to keep that to himself. 

“Well, that’s true,” Lance chimes in.

“Oh also, I made some food for you guys,” Hunk says. “It’s on the counter. I’d invite you to stay over, but as you can tell, it’s way too messy for a practical sleepover. Plus, Lance’s place isn’t too far away anyways.” He sounds a bit apologetic, but with comforting smiles from Keith and Lance, he relaxes a bit. 

“You’re the best Hunk,” Keith thanks him, glancing at a large clock on the wall. “Well, we should be off now, before it gets crazy late. Good luck with that.”

Hunk follows them out to the door. “Thanks- See you guys later. Enjoy!”   
  


“Bye!” They chorus, bolting towards the stairs immediately after Hunk closes the door.   
  


* * *

Keith and Lance make their way to Lance’s Jeep, both panting from yet another race down the stairs and out to the car. Lance cradles the food close to his chest, the warmth from it seeping through his shirt. Keith reaches for the car door and as he goes to get in and start it, Lance stops him.

 

“Wait.. I’m like.. super starving, maybe we could just eat now? It’s nice out right now anyway.” Keith cocks an eyebrow at that. 

“You can’t wait until we get back to your place?” Lance pouts at his question. 

“Noo! I mean Keith  _ smell this,”  _ Lance whines as he opens up the container to let Keith get a whiff of the warm pasta inside. 

“Oh,” he says softly, mouth already beginning to water. “So, are we gonna eat it in your car or..” Lance huffs a bit and closes the container. 

“Nope! No way are we eating this over my nice seats. We can… We can eat in the trunk? I’ll open it up and that can work!” Keith nods and gets out of the driver’s seat, shutting the door. 

“Alright but what about utensils?” Lance just grins at him and passes over the container. 

“You go get in the trunk, and I’ll get that.” Keith silently worries about what Lance would show up with. Trying to brush away those thoughts, Keith opens up the back and climbs in, setting the container down and crossing his legs as he sat. A moment later Lance shows up with an item in each hand. 

“They’re sporks,” Lance says with a smug grin. Well it could have honestly been way worse so Keith will take this as it is. Lance scrambles into the back with Keith, passing over one spork before popping open the container again. There was a bit of a silence for a while, if you don’t count their happy hums as they ate. As the pasta begins to disappear though, Lance speaks up again.

“It’s nice that it’s clear out right now.. You can see the stars,” Lance says, tilting his head up to the sky. Keith hums at that, glancing up at the night sky. 

“I don’t always put much thought into them but.. They are pretty neat to look at,” Keith says before taking another bite. Ones he swallows that he continues. “I mean I guess I used to pay more attention to them when I was younger but.. Yeah…” He trails off when he notices Lance was neither speaking nor eating at this point, just staring up at the sky.  
  


“Lance?” He snaps out of his trance and shoots Keith a smile.  


“Sorry, haha.. I just.. I’ve always loved the stars, y’know? Like as a kid I’d obsess over them. I had like star maps and those glow in the dark stars you could put on your ceiling. My siblings kind of passed that love down to me I guess? My dad and them would take me stargazing some nights and-... Yeah, then I guess I just really took on a love for the stars.” He scowls a bit in thought. “They were always the one thing I couldn’t properly capture on camera. I just have my memory to rely on when it comes to preserving the beauty of them..” With that, his eyes trailed back up to the stars. Keith frowns a bit and jabs some more pasta on his spork. 

“I dunno.. I mean I get that they’re like stunning and all, but don’t you think it’s just kinda  _ sad? _ I mean the stars look close together from here but in reality they’re just  _ so far _ from each other. Seems pretty lonely.. And on top of that we’re already seeing something that’s dead, and as beautiful as it is, there’s something pointless to it. At least to me…” Keith says before popping his sporkful of pasta into his mouth.  


Lance took a moment to process that before laughing a bit. “Man, it almost sounds like you’re projecting or something,” he teases with a light smile. When Keith doesn’t reply or even meet his gaze, Lance’s smile flickers out. “..Oh.” Keith scowls and continues to not look at Lance. 

“Yeah.. Look we should get back to your place,” Keith starts, not wanting to continue this conversation. Not wanting to go into detail about how so, so alone he feels. About how scared he is all the time. He just didn’t want to go too deep into that.

He doesn’t want to cry.

“Wait!” Lance reaches out to stop Keith from getting up. “I-.. I get it. I get that feeling of being alone. Maybe I don’t feel it like you do but, shit, Keith… You aren’t alone. There isn’t that unimaginable distance between you and everyone else. Hell, even if the stars seem so far away and even if every single one we’re seeing is long gone, they make people feel closer. I mean,” he pauses for a moment, searching for the words. 

“I mean, look, stars guide people home or to new places. Not only that but the stars we’re seeing? Everyone on  _ Earth _ can see. They see the same constellations and tell stories about them, and if that isn’t some unifying shit right there I don’t know  _ what _ is! So yeah, it’s a little bittersweet between the stars, but for us down here? It’s a lot less lonely..” Lance drops his hand from Keith’s arm as Keith looks over to him. 

“I guess you’re right..” Keith offers him a small smile. Lance relaxes some.  
  


“Of course I am,” he jokes a bit. There was a comfortable silence before Lance shoots up. 

_ “Shit!  _ I forgot about the ice cream!” He squawks as he runs around to the driver’s side. “Keith we need to  _ go now!” _

 

Keith laughs a bit and puts the lid on the food container before getting out of the back, shutting the trunk as he did so.  He looks in Lance’s direction, catching some of his frantic movements in the mirror before looking back up at the sky with its countless stars.   
  


“I wish we didn’t have to.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UM HOLY SHIT I LOVED THIS SO MUCH. It was so fun to work with you on this chapter! This is probably my first legit collab that I've finished, and while I felt like I was stepping on your toes a lot (really didn't want to be annoying), it was a great experience. You're a gre(y)t ;) person to work with, and I would totally do it again. :3 <33
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!!


	23. Reminder

Waking up at five in the morning is never ideal. Never is the key word here. Birthdays are no exception to this rule, especially when Keith wakes up to unwanted noises and disturbances in his sleep. He may be an insomniac, but he can appreciate the few hours of sleep he does end up getting. Honestly damn Pidge for exposing his birthday to everyone. Keith is not ready for any of this.

 

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU~! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU~!” Lance sings loudly beside him, jolting Keith, who was still quite asleep and comfortable half-awake and not exactly in the best mood or remotely even close to happy.  


_Or that._  


Keith’s head lolls around on the pillow as he brought up his hands slowly to cover his years. “Lance- what the fuck, it’s like five in the morning-” he groans, voice raspy and unused.

Instead of stopping, Lance continues to singing, volume at a ridiculous level and facing their ceiling. Keith can feel an oncoming headache already. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR KE-EEEEFFF~!”

“Did you just call me _‘Keef’_?” he asks, too tired and sleepy to even sound surprised or remotely worried about a potential terrible nickname..

“Yes I did- HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOUUUUU~!!” Lance riffs at the end of it, nailing the pitches, even at this early time of the day.

_Is day even a valid label? It’s still dark…_

Keith is conscious enough to give him sloppy clap. “I appreciate the gesture Lance, but again, what the fuck?” he says, with a bite of a bite in it, managing to muster up some sass even with him halfway into dreamland.

“It’s your birthday!” Lance responds, using it as his excuse.

“Lance- you know what the best thing I could have for my birthday?” Keith asks him expectantly.

“Hm? What?” He’s curious to hear what exactly Keith is going to say next.

Keith rolls over in the bed, pulling the blankets around him higher. “Some sleep. Now ‘gnight,” he mumbles, burying the side of his face into the pillow.

Lance pouts and turns over so that he’s facing Keith;s back. He spoons the other male, letting his arm rest over Keith’s body gently. “Well, if you’re gonna be like that, I’ll just give you some birthday snuggles,” he says, closing his eyes.

He hums a little, making a low noise come from his throat, a mix between a moan and a groan. “I’d complain, but I’m too tired.”

Lance yawns loudly. “Honestly, maybe getting up this early was a bad idea.”  


Keith shifts, nodding slightly. He can feel himself start to drift off.

 

“Exactly. Now hush, I’m trying to sleep.”

 

* * *

 

After Keith wakes up, it’s automatically deemed a lazy day. Lance makes Keith waffles and they end up binge watching crappy b-list movies (courtesy of Keith) and some actually decent action movies (courtesy of Lance). They also end up finishing an entire Netflix series and rewatching some old cartoons like Spongebob and Powerpuff Girls (with Lance complaining that the original series was way better than the remake).

Around eightish, Lance goes outside of his bedroom to take an “important” call. Keith isn’t stupid and easily realizes that it has to do with his birthday, although he doesn’t make an attempt to discover what exactly is going on. It’s only when Lance comes back inside does anything actually begin to progress.  


“Get dressed, we’re going out. And something a bit more formal than your leather jacket if you would,” Lance says, leaning against his door frame.

Keith decides to play dumb. “Um- no. Not unless you tell me what’s this for.”

He rolls his eyes. “Your birthday, duh.”

“I thought most people just texted their friends and let them have some peace and quiet for their birthday,” Keith responds, deciding to count the freckles on Lance’s face instead of actually paying attention to what he’s supposed to.

Lance shrugs. “Well, we aren’t like most people, if you haven’t noticed yet.”

“You don’t need to turn my birthday into a big deal. I’m just a year older than I was last year. There really isn’t much of a difference,” Keith says. _Twenty-one, Twenty-two._

“Well, too bad. Just enjoy being in the spotlight this once. It’s your special day, Lance answers back lightly, trying to motivate Keith into trying to enjoy today.

Keith wrinkles his nose. “ _‘Special’_ is pushing it. Birthdays have always been a brushed over ordeal, and well, it really doesn’t matter at all to me. This could be just another day…” _Thirty-six… oh man, this is taking too long_

“Do you like free food?” Lance suddenly asks.

“Uh… yes…?” He trails off, unsure what that had to do with anything.

“Then you’re coming. I swear, we’re not that boring,” Lance says firmly, but still cheerful in his classic behaviour.

Keith sighs, knowing that it’s just much easier if he agrees to whatever Lance is saying. “Fine.”  


Lance grins at him, walks towards him and brushes a kiss on his cheek. “Cheer up Keith.”

 

He then backs away and leaves Keith in his room, staring blankly at the empty doorway, not really knowing what else to do.

  


* * *

 

Of course the birthday boy is the one that is having the least amount of fun. Keith supposes the best part of today is that gets to eat at Olive Garden (where only rich, AKA not broke people, went to eat dinner) for free. Even the wrapped presents beside him don’t strike his fancy as much as the different dishes passing by him.

Shiro, Hunk, Keith, and Lance sit at their reserved table, idly scrolling through their phones and making meaningless chit-chat as they waited for Pidge and Allura to show up. He and Lance actually arrived much later than the allotted time because Lance had to eventually come back and pick out Keith’s clothing.

He fiddles with the golden buttons on his blazer, red dress shirt a striking combination, fitting him perfectly too. Keith sneaks a look at Lance, who is frowning at one of his arcade games on his phone. Lance’s outfit is almost like an inverted version of his outfit, donned in a black dress shirt, not exactly form fitting, but subtly showing off his biceps, and a blueish-grey tie to add a pop of color.  


Lance looks up, and catches his eye. “What’s up?”

“Uh… nothing!” he says quickly, fumbling for another topic. “When do you think Pidge and Allura are going to get here?”

“They’re just getting a cake-” Lance responds, before cutting off his sentence as he spots them rushing through the doors.

Pidge’s black trenchcoat puffs out a bit as she darts through, opening up to reveal her soft sea green sweater dress. Allura is right behind her, with her hair falling into gentle curls down her shoulders, spilling on top of her cropped white sweater paired with a bluish-black pencil skirt and business-like pumps. In her hands is a circular container, the cake.

“Oh hey!! Over here!” he calls, waving a hand. One of the attendees leads them to their table. “You’re late, you know.” Lance raises an eyebrow at the two girls.

Pidge shrugs. “The pick up for the cake was on the other side of the city.” She walks over to Keith and rests her head on his. “Happy birthday Keith, the most emo guy I know,” Pidge says half-affectionately and teasingly.

“I’ll take that as a compliment I guess…? Thanks.” His lips quirk up into a small smile, used to her antics by now.”

“Happy twenty-fourth birthday Keith,” Allura chimes in, taking a seat beside Shiro.

“Thank you Allura,” he says, not really knowing what else to say. Pidge leaves her post on his head, and otps for the empty in the middle of Lance and Hunk.

“Are we ordering now or what? I’m craving some breadsticks and pasta right about now,” Pidge complains, reaching for one of the menus in front of Shiro, who just snorts and hands one to her.

“Pidge, you could literally ask Hunk to make this for you,” he says, flipping open a menu of his own.

She shrugs. “I guess, but there’s something classy about eating here. Usually I’m too broke, but ‘cause we’re all pitching in, well, except for Keith since he’s the birthday boy, I’m going to splurge.”

“Did you actually just compare our apartment to Olive Garden Pidge?” Hunk asks, looking at her a bit incredulously. He looks down at his comfy winter sweater. “And now I’m feeling underdressed too…”

Keith inserts himself into the conversation, breaking off from the one Allura started with him about what he had done today. “It’s fine Hunk. I was going to come here with my usually clothes, but Lance over here,” he points a thumb at the other male, “said it was too informal.”

Lance wrinkles his nose. “But you look hotter in that outfit. Doesn’t he Shiro?” he asks out of the blue, narrowing his laser sharp eyes on him .

Shiro scratches his head, a bit uncomfortable to be put in such a situation. “Well, yeah, you do look good Keith. Probably the most formal thing I’ve seen you wear since your graduation, and even then, you wanted to show up in sweats.”

“They were comfy!” Keith protests.

Allura, being the diplomat that she is, raises a hand to stop them from beginning to bicker. “Well, that’s not really the point. I feel like we’re digressing from the original topic, which is that-”

“I’m fucking hungry,” Pidge cuts in, closing her menu loudly, glaring viciously at a nearby waiter to try and get their attention. Keith opens his mouth to tell her that it’s not going to work, but Lance puts a hand on his arm, signalling him for him to wait. He concedes and lets Pidge do her thing.

 

Sure enough, they eventually turn around and ask if the their table needs anything. One by one, they list their orders and wait for the food to come back again. They all opt for some form of alcohol, just enough to get a buzz, but not enough for them to be a danger when getting home, with peach sangrias and beer being ordered. As they waited, they pass the time by telling riddles (which Pidge absolutely demolished) and twenty questions. Lance laments about how he should have brought a deck of cards, and asks for a children’s coloring sheet for Keith and him to draw on.

When the appetizers come, Shiro has to hold back Pidge long enough for the others to get breadsticks too, knowing that she’s going to inhale them all if he doesn’t give them a fighting chance. To their surprise, it’s actually Allura who eats the most. Their meals come shortly after, with Pidge devouring everything on her plate. Honestly, Keith is just shocked at how Pidge could eat so much and still stay so skinny. He could benchpress her for fucks sake. Lance gets Tour of Italy, with three different pastas, and Keith gets Ravioli di Portobello. They switch plates every now and then, trying what each other has

With Pidge and Hunk giving each other the “look at these two” look (directed towards them), and Allura and Shiro looking on fondly, as if they were their children, Keith has to admit that while going out isn’t really his type of thing, it was worth going, for at least his friends- no, _family._ They do so many things for him, and that just makes him feel so warm inside.

 

It doesn’t matter that Keith is outside of his comfort zone around these people, for as long as they around around, he is perfectly fine.

.

* * *

 

The waiters clean up the plates without a second look at their group, probably used to the chaos of the restaurant not too care too much about what happens during their day. Keith lowkey bets that they’re all just as sleep deprived as he is.

 

Allura pushes the still covered cake to the middle of the table and claps her hands to get the attention of everyone at their table (and even some from beside them). “Now this is where we sing Keith happy birthday!”

He can already feel his face pale skin burning as red as his dress shirt. “Allura, as much as I’m super grateful for this, can we just eat the cake? I can’t stand strangers looking at me and being like _‘what the fuck’_?”

She nods, understanding where he’s coming from. “Whatever you want Keith. I understand.”

“Oh man, you’re gonna love the cake!” Pidge exclaims excitedly. Keith can already feel his anxiety spiking with both eagerness and nervousness, although really, there’s no reason for him to panic. Okay, maybe Lance’s hands turning his vision black is affecting that a little.

“And now, for the dramatic reveal-” he says suspensefully.

Keith snorts. “Lance you can stop covering my eyes now.”

Lance begins to slowly uncover them. “Yeah, yeah, I’m just trying to be funny.”

“You already are- oh! Is that…?” Keith is in the middle of the sentence before he stops, surprised at how cute the cake is. It’s quite small because Keith doesn’t like sweets too much, but he thinks it’s perfect. The cake is tiramisu, with an inlay of a familiar symbol.

“That’s the Voltron logo!” Keith points, grinning at the detail.

“I got an old colleague of mine to draw it out. I know how much you love that cartoon,” Shiro says, smiling at how eager Keith looks now. “It’s not really anything complex, but we figured simpler was better.”

“And I got someone in my connections too to make it galaxy-like as an extra touch.” Allura chimes in cheerfully.

“Thank you!” he says, unable to say anything else (considering his mouth is also watering at this point.)

Pidge buts into the conversation. “Oh and Keith, that’s my birthday present because I didn’t know what to get you. I was debating on a con-”

Hunk quickly covers her mouth. “Okay and that’s _enough!”_

“Then how about you Lance?” Keith asks teasingly, turning his attention to the other male.

Lance looks partially offended. “The gift was this morning!”

“Oh- okay…” Keith says awkwardly.

Lance laughs at his face. “I’m kidding. I wouldn’t forget to get you something good.” His voice drops as he passes something to Keith under the table, pushing an envelope into his hand. “Here. Read at home, unless you can make it obvious.”

“Thanks Lance.” He holds onto it like it’s a lifeline.

“No problem,” Lance answers softly. His voice brightens again after a second. “Oh, now it’s time to blow out the candles! Come on Keith!”

 

They all laugh and smile brightly. There’s no where else he would rather be celebrating his birthday than right here, with all his friends- _family_ even.

 

* * *

 

_~~Dear Keith,~~ _

_~~You are amazing~~ _

 

_~~Dear Keith,~~ _

_~~You’ve made my world shatter into something extraordinary~~ _

 

_Dear Keith,_

_I swear, this time, I’m going to get everything I want you to know down without scratching out the text. There are billions, even more, word combinations in the world to compliment someone, to be able to express the totality of someone’s beauty in one sentence, but there will never be one that can perfectly capture how much you mean to me in once sentence. I just can’t. So here, some measly words to remind you how perfectly imperfect you are._

_Your smile is not the treasure chest buried under the ground, but sense of accomplishment and happiness when it is found. It’s not something that anyone can merely hold and plunder, for you don’t smile at merely anyone, but the ones who have truly deserved it. It is small and fleeting because you are far too scared to let down your walls. That’s what I’m here for. Trust me, your smile is beautiful._

_Your laughter is the burst of sweetness when you first bite into a summer watermelon. It’s not an overwhelming type of sweetness, but gentle and addicting. You know how much I love watermelon, and much like it, I can’t have just one slice, or one laugh. It’s the last rays of sun, when everything turns purple, pink, red, orange. Your laughter is beautiful._

_Your kisses are like getting out of bed. I never want to get out, or stop, or leave. It’s always been you. If I was given I choice, I wouldn’t get out, ever. I cling onto your lips, your every word, and dios mio, I find myself falling for you over and over again._

_K e i t h._

_You are beautiful. You are an amazing, wonderful human being. Even through your past, even with your struggles and demons, you still keep pushing forward, keep moving, and I am so incredibly proud of you. I don’t tell you this every day because I assume that you already know how much I adore you, but I would remind you every day that you are everything to me. We make up two parts of a whole. I will be your stability when you feel unsteady, and all I ask is that you will be there for me when I need it._

_Keith, I am so lucky to have you._

 

_Happy Birthday babe,_

_Lance_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three things:  
> a) This is for Keith's birthday (no shit right), and well, I'm late because I've just been swamped with homework and whatnot. Kinda how it goes, which leads into...  
> b) Autumn Leaves has sort of been a "Writober," but I won't be able to finish it exactly on the end of October. I'm going to write at the pace that I can, and honestly, I'm quite proud that I've managed to get this far, because quite frankly, I'm trash at keeping up my fics haha.  
> c) I'm not really satisfied with this chapter, but I guess I can always rewrite it another time if I actually ever feel like it. There was a lot of skips, which I don't usually do. Probably the reason why it feels so weird.
> 
> Here are the inspiration for their outfits, first with [Lance](https://i.pinimg.com/736x/87/89/11/87891152d7d6cc3af643b6e13c14c032--movies-lance-mcclain-voltron.jpg), then [Keith](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/f6/83/8d/f6838dc9053e239fa6c461b2fd8f2326.jpg), [Pidge's dress](http://picture-cdn.wheretoget.it/icye58-l-610x610-dress-green-emerald+green+dress-sweater-green+dress-emerald+green-sweater+dress-tumblr-fall+dress-cable+knit.jpg) and [jacket ](https://img0.etsystatic.com/181/1/5609612/il_340x270.1265530880_iyau.jpg) (because Pidge would totally be classy, or at the very least, Shay picked it out for her), [Hunk](https://i.pinimg.com/736x/92/09/2e/92092eb252026650f325874c36ff72db--fall-sweaters-fair-isle-sweaters.jpg), [Allura's top](https://i.pinimg.com/736x/5f/d9/4b/5fd94b4b13fdddf6c0832430a35041c7--sheer-crop-top-sheer-shirt.jpg) and [skirt(/outfit)](https://images.asos-media.com/products/asos-tailored-belted-pencil-skirt/7289655-1-black?%24XL%24), and while Shiro wasn't mentioned too much, it's [here](https://i.pinimg.com/736x/d0/3a/a5/d03aa5ffd681fd1c8ff0921a9dcd62d1--shiro-voltron-anonymous.jpg)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!!


	24. Ignite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SMUT, BUT IT'S PRETTY MILD. SKIP OVER THIS CHAPTER IF YOU'RE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THAT TYPE OF STUFF

Autumn is drawing to a close, and with it, Keith attempts to swallow any doubts or apprehension he has.  
  


The cup of coffee in his hands becomes irrelevant as time continues to pass. Keith has no idea how long he’s simply been standing on the balcony, donned in only a thin sweater and sweatpants. Outside, the biting cold stings at any exposed bare skin, but even then, he feels comforted, knowing that the shelter that he’s always been looking for is only a step away, always waiting for him.

A quiet squeak breaks the spell of stillness the silence wove around him. Keith turns around only to meet Lance’s soft eyes.

 

“Hey, what are you doing out here?” he asks, giving him a half smile. The open glass screen allows cold air to come in, and while Lance is trying is very best not to shiver, Keith can tell that standing at the opening is suffering in it’s way. The worn t-shirt and shorts he is wearing isn’t going to do anything to protect him from the chill. 

Keith shakes his slightly at Lance’s foolishness. “I was just clearing my head. You should go inside. It’s freezing, and you really aren’t dressed for the weather.”

“To be fair, neither are you,” Lance points out.

“Touche.” He’ll give him that.

“Plus, I’m not going without you, so you might as well come with me.” Lance stretches a hand towards him. For a second, Keith simply stares at it, only to give in to his impulse to take it. Hot and cold clashes, beginning to bring back warmth to Keith’s freezing hands.  


 

He considers the possibility of ignoring the gentle tugs, only to set it free and allow himself to be led inside by Lance. It’s too late for Keith to take back the maelstrom of feelings he has for him. There’s an ache in his heart that drags him along, even as melancholy settles in his bones. It is a sort of sweet agony he has always associated with Lance, in the sense that it will always feel surreal that they are right here, together. He cannot help but to envision and submerge all the bad within the good. Old habits die hard, or never die at all.

The sorrow lingers as his body moves of its own accord. Keith only half remembers Lance prying the cold mug from his fingers and setting it down in the sink through his daze. He continues to take step after step after step, only to reach Lance’s room. Keith wraps himself around Lance and falls down, only to be cushioned by the unkempt bed. 

An urge drives him to be reckless, to  _ feel  _ something, anything at all. Keith lowers his face down and decorates Lance’s neck with patches of red and pleasure, reveling in the chorus of groans that sound from within the cage that his arms form on either side of his body. He trails kisses down his face as Lance’s hands rest at Keith’s waist, roaming up and tracing his abs underneath the warm hoodie.

 

Keith frowns, grunting slightly. “Are you going to take it off or what?”

Lance grins. “Impatient are we?”

 

In response, Keith grinds on top of him, almost instantaneously creating a tent in Lance’s shorts. He moans and yanks the hoodie off of Keith as Keith helps pull off Lance’s shorts, pausing as Lance stops Keith’s hands at the garter of his boxers.

 

“Keith, you’re sure about this?” Lance asks, looking at him seriously.

He nods. “I’m fine.”

 

Lance looks at him for a moment longer before slowly lifting his hands to bury them into Keith’s hair, bucking up to assist in taking off his boxers. His length springs up, and while Keith can’t help but to ogle, he also finishes stripping off his joggers. 

Tension and adrenaline pumps through his body. The fog that had drifted into his thoughts earlier lifts, and now Keith is bombarded with all his thoughts about how Lance looks so fucking beautiful underneath him, about how they’re actually going to have sex, slight fears that this just seals the deal further- and a million other things that he just needed to block out. Right now, it is just them, right here, right now.

 

“Lance, the-”

 

Even before Keith can finish his sentence, Lance stretches an arm underneath his bed and throws him a bottle of lube, along with a condom. Keith almost snorts out how synchronized they are, but instead, a strangled gasp escapes his lips as Lance wraps his other hand around his dick, rough pads rubbing Keith’s sensitive skin. Precum dribbles out slightly, covering Lance’s fingers. Keith leans over to the side in a comfortable position to prep Lance.

It feels as though there are flames flickering on Keith’s skin, heat kissing every inch of his flesh. Sweat coats them as they cry out, made completely vulnerable to each other. With every pump from Lance, Keith thrusts his fingers in, stretching and adding more when he feels Lance is loose enough to take it.

 

“Aaah- Augh-- Ke-ahhh-Keith!” Lance cries out, taking several tries as he cuts himself off with moan after moan. “Need you in me-  _ now _ .  **Please!** ” Desperation is clear in his voice.

 

Keith pulls his fingers out and looks Lance in the eye before tasting them. Lance pants a bit more, giving Keith one more pump before pulling his hand away. Keith quickly rolls on the condom, positioning his tip right at Lance’s entrance. Keith looks to Lance for permission, receiving a small nod as confirmation.

With one slick movement, Keith thrusts in. Lance arches his body up, screaming as it hits his prostate head on. Keith freezes, wondering silently if Lance is okay, but when Lance wriggles his ass slightly, he takes it as a cue to continue. Over and over, he pounds into Lance, relishing the feedback he’s getting from him. From time to time through his own groaning, Keith attempts to dirty talk.

 

“You like that huh?”

Which only resulted in: “No- ah, shit Sherlock!”   
  


Needless to say, that wasn’t much of a surprise, although Keith definitely turned a shade redder because of it. To be fair, the next push made Lance lose all his words, save for the occasional blubbering of “yes” in choked tones.

 

When Keith feels his tipping point nearing, he manages to speak up to Lance.   
  


“I’m going to pull out. Let’’s finish each other off,” Keith grunts, going in twice more. 

Lance lolls his head, delirious with pleasure. “Uhuh.” He pulls out and their hands reach out for each other.

  
  


Lance once compared Keith to the campfire flames that burned as brightly as he did. Because of him, Keith is constantly burning, with need, love, and warmth. His heart that once held ashes how holds a gentle flickering flame, that at times, can grow into a bonfire. This is no bonfire. This is an explosion, of his tumultuous feelings and well, for a lack of better wording,  _ other _ things. Lance’s touch- Lance’s anything, is simply the catalyst for all things Keith knows. 

In this moment, and many more to come, Keith is ready to ignite.

 

Both of their heads tilt backwards, both cumming at the same time. White streams stained their skin and the sheets below them. Keith rolls over beside Lance, curling into the crook of his neck. He presses an ear, listening for Lance’s heartbeat as they catch their breath. Eventually, their racing heartbeats beat in time, making Keith smile slightly. Lance pulls Keith closer to him, pressing a sloppy kiss on his forehead.

 

“Well, that was something huh?” he comments, grinning slightly.

Keith snorts. “Do you always have to break the moment?”

Lance shrugs. “The conversation afterwards tends to be awkward.”

“Ugh, well, I’m too tired to hold up a conversation, but sleeping sweat coated isn’t my thing,” Keith says, yawning a bit. “I’ll snuggle with you after I shower.”

“Yeah okay.” He unwinds his arm and lets Keith get up. “I’m just going to rest here…”

“The sheets Lance.” Keith reminds him, not unkindly.

He sighs. “Right, right.”

“I’m gonna go shower now,” Keith calls, halfway through the door.

“Wait!” Lance exclaims. “I have a question.”

“Yeah?” He tilts his head curiously.

“Did that somehow solve that problem?” When Keith looks at him questioningly, Lance turns slightly red. “Well, it looked like you were considering something before all of this happened.” He waves a hand in the air. “I’m just wondering if you’ve made up your mind about it. It’s okay if you don’t want to answer though-”

Keith lets a small laugh. “Yeah, I did Lance. Thank to you.”

 

Lance fumbles for a response, but Keith has already walked out.

 

 

Old habits die hard, but new habits can learn to live- and if that is the case, then Keith will learn how to accept and love every inch of Lance… and himself.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.... there's some smut I guess lolol. I was on the fence about this at first, but whatever. I wrote a bit of this in class lmao, but like, just the beginning part to it, barely edging into the scene. Man, had to research a bit haha. Bless incognito for existing tbh. Lil bit of angst, fluff and smut all mixed together. Fun Fact: This is my first time writing smut, if that wasn't obvious
> 
> S/o to Nia and Ash for, ahem, the references lmao, and Kewl to telling me to just do it >: )
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!! :))
> 
> (#nonutnovember)


	25. Reach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks Kewl for helping me out with the beginning and planning of this chapter!

Routine, especially for the two who have learned that even drifting along in life can get exhausting, crept in naturally. To say they adhere to strict rules definitely stretches it; to them, routine simply dwells in their little habits and rituals.

Keith, being Keith, always wakes up late and stumbles through Lance’s apartment with his emotions expressed blatantly on his face until he’s either brought back from the skies by a kiss from Lance or has almost enough coffee to equal a 5 Hour Energy shot. 

Yet on this morning of the completely unusual, Lance finds himself scouring Keith’s face over and over, only to find it devoid of emotion, excluding perfectly concealed restlessness and a small spark of either eagerness or nervousness in his eyes (although really it might be both.) 

Lance, being Lance, patiently waits for him to stop tapping his foot while eating his cereal or fidgeting when scrolling through his phone or worse, squirming when he tried to cuddle with him as they marathon  _ The Twilight Saga _ . At this point, he doubts that Keith’s noticed that his legs are strangling the pillow wedged between his knees and that his eyes hadn’t blinked in over four minutes.

 

“Dude. What the hell,” Lance finally decides to say, placing a hand over Keith’s thigh in hopes to ease him of his impatience.  “If you wanna pee, the bathroom’s on the first door to the right you know.”

Keith freezes, finally blinking as he shifts his gaze from Edward Cullen’s pale face on the screen to Lance’s apprehensively. “What?” 

Lance raises an eyebrow and tilts his head in scrutiny. “You’re worried about something aren’t you?” He takes Keith’s hand in his own, “You can tell me anything, you know? We’ll get through it together.” A soft smile graces his lips. 

Keith lets his surprised silence dissipate between them. He sighs and Lance watches with relief as his rigid shoulders finally relax themselves for this first time today.

“Okay...” Keith says cautiously, looking everywhere apart from his boyfriend’s concerned eyes. “ _ Ireallywanttoplaythe2018PacMacArcadeExclusivebutI’mafraidtoaskyoutocomewithmebecauseit’schildhishandsoI’mgoingtogoalonebutthat’smakingmefeelguiltyforleavingyououtIdon’tknowwhattodopleasehelpmeI’mdying. _ ”

 

It becomes Lance’s turn to look at Keith utterly dumbfounded, right before he succumbs and erupts into cackles. If anything, his uncontrollable laughter seems like those photos people take right before a disaster. Keith grips his hand tighter, torn between worry and embarrassment.

 

“Wow...I just realised the sheer absurdity of my concern...” he says with awe, feeling the last bit of anxiety in his chest slip away as Lance wipes away the last of his hysterical tears. 

“I’m glad you did, babe,” Lance responds, placing a quick peck on his cheek before he grabbing the remote and turning off the TV. With quick movements, he stands by with a hip cocked to the side and throws Keith his jacket.

“Well, what are you waiting for? We have an arcade to conquer.”

 

Keith is made aware for the millionth time that his boyfriend is, without a doubt, the best thing that the universe could possibly offer him.

 

* * *

 

“Okay. Damn. What a backfire.” The wry statement finds its way out of Lance’s mouth as he pushes through the crowd of people assembled loudly around the arcade center. “This line could circle the Earth twice, geez.”

For a second, Keith mourns the fact that Lance said ‘Earth’ instead of ‘world’, effectively cutting him off from a cringy pick-up line that would have definitely caused Lance to laugh despite the unfortunate reality that faces them. He settles for fondly ruffling Lance’s hair.

“I can wait here. I don’t want you to miss out all the other games that are definitely way better than standing in line for hours.”

 

Lance blinks at him. Once. Twice.

 

“How sad do you have to be in order to wait outside an arcade alone?”

Keith audibly snorts. “I think you’ll find that it’s a lot more common than you think.”

“Well, even so!’ he protests. “How about we come back in a couple hours? The line is only for the arcade machine anyways, so we can easily sneak past everyone and go inside. It’ll be way better than toughing it out here.”

“And that means I won’t get ugly tan lines too,” Keith concedes.

“Hm, if you put it that way, maybe I should make you stay outside,” Lance teases, unable to help the wide grin lighting up his face.

He smirks. “You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“Not as much as I would enjoy kicking your butt at an FPS game.”

“Bet?”

 

“ _ Bet _ .”

 

“Oho, okay then. You’re on.”

 

* * *

 

Suffice to say, Keith gets his ass handed to him in every single round.

 

It’s entertaining in a borderline sadistic way to watch him pout childishly on the side, but even as Lance jokingly gloats, he finds himself silently admitting that Keith does put up a hard fight with every demand of a rematch. Stubborn tenacity runs through his veins, and while Keith’s ineffective strategy of gunning down anything he sees doesn’t work very well, he’s managed to almost beat Lance several times with that alone. 

However, brute force doesn’t hold a candle to the years of experience Lance has under his belt from countless weekends spent at the arcade in his childhood and natural aptitude with sharpshooting. Bragging about it was definitely not worth giving Keith more teasing material. Not that it was much to brag about in all honesty.

 

“What sort of ungodly training do you have to go through in order to get this good jeez,” Keith mutters lightheartedly as he watches Lance shoots the enemies on the screen in quick succession. 

He had bowed out to ‘ _ take a break, _ ’ and ‘ _ generously allow Lance to play the single player mode so they burn through all the tokens in one sitting, _ ’ even if they both knew that Keith was just refusing to admit defeat. While Lance would have teased him more, he refused to take the joke too far. Plus, the high score was more pressing at the moment. 

“Maybe I secretly train on the deck of a spaceship with training robots set to the highest difficulty mode,” Lance deadpans, barely heard over the high pitched shooting sound effects. 

“Still... “ Keith trails off, thinking hard about something. An idea lingers in the back of his mind as he draws closer behind Lance. “Doesn’t seem hard enough…” Ever so slowly, Keith’s fingers drift towards the other’s sides. 

“K-Keith!” Lance chokes through giggles. He squirms on the spot, trying to gain some sort of reprieve from Keith’s merciless tickling. His elbows tense up at his side as he tries to shield himself in vain. While it doesn’t provide too much cover, Keith has a harder time poking at Lance now that his guard is up. 

An ungraceful snort escapes from Keith as Lance hops around ridiculously. “This isn’t Just Dance.” 

Lance sticks out his tongue childishly in response-- only to jolt in surprise as Keith blows a stream of cold air his sensitive nape.

**“Aaaahhh!!”**

 

That one second is all it takes.

Shivers run up and down Lance’s spine as the gun falls to his side. An 8-bit tune rings out, serving only to rub salt in his defeat as he gazes at the large ‘Game Over’ flashing on the screen. All the other noises in the loud arcade fade to the background. Keith is suddenly swept over with a wave of regret as Lance slouches over the machines controls. He stretches a hand out hesitantly, wanting to say something, anything to apologize or set things right.

The arcade screen changes to the leaderboard, causing Keith to look up, startled.

Underneath the top score, a flashing name calls his attention.

 

“‘ _ Iz a l0sr _ ,’” he recites slowly.

“If I can’t get the top spot, then that’s the next best thing, right?” Lance says, lifting his head to grin at Keith. As he straightens his body, Keith sees a coil of tickets dangling from his hand. “Plus, look how many tickets I got, even when you decided to up the difficulty.” He cocks an eyebrow, causing Keith to flush a little.

 

In response, Lance gets smacked in the arm.

 

“Don’t worry me like that you idiot!” he grumbled. “I thought you were actually mad.”

Lance presses a quick kiss against Keith’s lips. “I’m not I promise.” A mischievous twinkle in his eye glimmers. “But, don’t expect me to let you off easily. You also get a handicap.”

A smile quirks up his lips. “That’s fair.”

“Now! Pick your poison!” he calls out, dramatically waving his arms in a grand gesture.

 

Lance ends up hitting another patron in the face.

Keith almost dies from lack of oxygen right there and then. 

 

* * *

 

Light bulbs inlaid within the slightly tilted board flashes sporadically, setting a warm glow on various obstacles and ridges. Scratches and other markings litter the surfaces of the machine, worn yet well loved. The bright lights from surrounding machines do little to faze keith, but there is the matter of the  _ other  _ distraction.

 

“You look hot,” Lance says, eyeing him appreciatively. 

His black hair is tied up in the back, only leaving his bangs to frame to his angular face. Keith’s jacket, a red and white windbreaker, is draped on Lance’s arm, leaving him in a loose yellow crop top and ripped jeans that hang on his waist. Cool air hits his toned stomach, helping to clear his mind a little.

“Thanks I know,” Keith quips as he focuses on the pinball machine before him. He can feel Lance wrap himself around him from behind, and while he can’t deny his increasing pulse, he keeps his cool as he slips a token in the slot.

 

He pulls the plunger and the ball springs to life. 

Eyes dart across the machine, tracing the ball’s path. Keith doesn’t bother spamming the plunger bats, instead, he tries to calculate the direction before setting it loose again. He isn’t much at shooting games, but finding a path in the chaos brings him a lot of satisfaction. Keith pulls off some trick shots, trying to entertain Lance, who seems enthralled if the quiet gasps are a sign. It isn’t long, however, until Lance starts to place soft kisses from Keith’s collarbone all the way up until the sensitive spot behind his ear.

 

Jokes on Lance. There’s no way he’s going to let himself lose that easily.

 

_ ‘I’m a pinball wizard. I’m a pinball wizard,’ _ Keith chants to himself like a mantra. 

It’s childish, he does realize, but that embarrassment can go suck a raw egg because he isn’t stopping now. Actually, his burning cheeks can do the same. Lance is just  _ radiating _ smugness at this point.

 

“Lance…” Keith grits through his teeth.

“What~?” Lance responds in a lilting tone.

 

The metal ball slips finally slips out of the flaps’ reach and through the ‘out’ hole. Sputtering sounds come out of the machine as it spits out a river of tickets. Keith leans back into the embrace with satisfaction as he waits for the tickets to stop. The tickets gather into a huge pile on the ground. Lance lets go of Keith, who bends down and wraps the tickets into belt.

“You’ve got me beat,” Lance says in amazement. Pride soaks his words and Keith’s face tinges red again. Dammit… and he thought he had calmed down too.

“We’re just good at different things. I suck at shooting,” he responds simply. His fingers toy with the tickets uncertainly before he drapes it like a necklace around Lance’s neck. Keith takes a good look at Lance, who is bathed in the neon glow of light blue and feels his heart swell up. 

“Would it be inappropriate for me to pin you against a machine and kiss you until you can’t breathe?” Lance asks in a low voice, holding his gaze intently.

“Well, yes, but…”

Keith grabs his hand and pulls him through the crowd.

 

“That’s what photobooths are for.”

 

* * *

 

Let’s get the facts straight (haha):

 

Contradictory to what Pidge has assumed from Lance’s habit of oversharing, no they definitely did not fuck in the photobooth, they definitely did not get caught sucking face, and they actually did use the photo booth for its intended purpose in the end.

 

Not that Pidge or Hunk seem to be convinced.

 

Anyways, the photostrips that have made its home in Lance and Keith’s phone cases should have been definitive proof.

 

 

Again, not that Pidge or Hunk seem to be convinced.

 

* * *

 

An annoying nagging feeling has been plaguing Keith, like an itch that he can’t reach. In interest of full disclosure, he’s been assuming that it’s just the eyes of a skeptical guard who may have seen more than they anticipated, but that just didn’t feel like the right answer. 

It takes Keith ages, leaving only a mere hour until closing, before he realizes what exactly is bothering him.

 

“Pac-man!” He whips off the VR headset and shakes Lance frantically. “Lance! Pac-man!”

“Let’s go then,” he hums in assent.

 

Although there are still quite a few people left, most of the afternoon crowds have completely dispersed, making it easy for them to weave their way to the machine. Some staff have started cleaning tables, signalling that their long day is coming to close. The others practically evacuated the area where the machine is. Lance had made the right call in waiting it out, seeing as there is no line in site---

The thought came straight to a halt as they both saw a neatly typed sheet covering the screen.

Three words accompanies a sinking feeling.

 

_ ‘Out of Order.’ _

 

A soda cup, with what looks like Fanta or Orange Crush, sits on the floor beside the machine. They both come to realization that the cup had been the offending weapon. Lance opens his mouth to say something, probably an apology, but Keith cuts him off.

“Don’t say sorry. You’re not the one who spilled it.”

“Well, yeah, I realize it, but I still feel a tiny bit bad… “ He shakes his head. “Anyways, at least it isn’t Mountain Dew, right?”

 

Leave it to Lance to find the silver lining.

 

Keith huffs. “It’s too good of a drink to meet that fate.” 

Lance pokes Keith’s nose, trying to make him stop furrowing his eyebrows. “I know you were really excited about that game. You don’t need to pretend you’re not slightly upset, but hey, I think messing around and blowing a whole bunch of money on these retro games makes for a way better date than standing in line. My opinion at least.” He tilts his head slightly. “I need to go to the washroom real quick. I’m pretty sure the staff won’t mind if you sit at one of the booths while you wait for me.”

He nods. “Okay sure, I’ll be right here.”

“Take some selfies for me.” He winks before disappearing behind a row of games.

 

Keith doesn’t even realize until he’s opened his camera that he has a goofy smile plastered all over his lips. There’s no use in sulking, he supposes. After all, who could get upset after making out with Lance for a good hour? 

Maybe it’s already too late for an appreciation or description of the arcade as this date draws to a close, but to be fair, they had been too busy getting lost each other to truly take a good look around. He makes sure to catch the wall full of metal signs and car plates in one of his selfies, blowing an awkward kiss at the phone amera. After a while, he opts to just take photos of the place itself.

 

_ Click _ . Rows on rows of flashing machines.

_ Click _ . The looping letters of the neon sign at the entrance.

_ Click _ . Empty booths, pulled out chairs.

_ Click _ . An eerie corner and flickering fluorescent lights.

_ Click _ . A forgotten token on the glass counter of the main desk.

_ Click _ . The uniform of a kind security guard who asks him to wait near the entrance.

 

 

And finally,

_ Click _ . Lance’s earnest face peeking through an armful of prizes.

 

A giant red robot lion plushie gets draped around Keith’s shoulders, and suddenly he’s also clutching three tiny teddy bears, two matching keychains and a squishy heart. Lance grins widely now that he’s unloaded almost all the things he had been carrying onto Keith. He would have protested against this treatment if he wasn’t so surprised.

 

“Sorry for taking so long.”

“No, it’s okay,” Keith says, partially dazed. He blinks twice, almost doubting his eyes. “The stuffies hid your face, but uh… what exactly that on your head?”

Lance wriggles his eyebrows. “[A Pacman Hat](https://www.homeleisuredirect.com/Assets/HLD/User/7543-Pacman-Head-Push-Hat.jpg).”

“ _ That _ is  _ not _ a Pacman hat. It’s an atrocity.”

 

Pacman became a sort of helmet on Lance’s head. A very ugly, and ‘ _ send a picture to all contacts to bring up for future gatherings’ _ sort of hat to say the least.

 

A playful pout settled on his lips. “But I worked so hard to get it.”

“Yeah yeah, okay. But just so you know, I’m not kissing you with that on your head.” Keith rolls his eyes at the overdramatic hurt expression on Lance’s face. “But thank you,” he says softly. “I really am happy.”

“Me too.”

 

They share smiles as they turn to leave. 

Lance stretches an arm and reaches past Keith to open the door. 

 

 

“Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think that's what photobooths are supposed to be used for Keith. (Also I cut it out, but when Lance makes that not-so-subtle nod to the actual Voltron Universe, I originally had Keith say "That sounds lonely.)
> 
> Okay, so I get it's clearly not Autumn, but better late than never I suppose. Right on time with the next season too.
> 
> Anyways I hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading :) 
> 
> (this is two parter!)


	26. Storm

“Well shit.”

 

Night had completely set by the time they stepped outside, and while that isn’t a surprise in itself, the pouring rain definitely is. The tinted windows of the arcade didn’t make it clear, but now that they’re finally outside… to put it simply, Keith could wholeheartedly agree with Lance. At this hour, only their car remains in the customer parking. Everyone else had left while Keith was waiting.

Lance sticks a hand out from underneath the awning, cupping it to catch the rain. 

“We could always just, you know, go back inside to wait out the rain…” Keith says.

The light inside of the arcade flickered off.

“Or  _ not _ .” He purses his lips.“If we run for it, maybe we can get inside the car without getting too drenched.”

Lance nods in understanding. He takes some of the prizes in Keith’s arms, shoves them into his jacket, and then sprints towards the car.“The booty must be protected at all costs!”

This catches Keith off guard. Does he run after Lance? Does he just say ‘fuck it’ and make him bring the car to the front? He shifts the lion so that it partially covers his head and chases after him without another thought. “What are you, five?!” Keith yells as he charges into rain, following right behind Lance. “Plus, isn’t your stupid hat getting wet too?”

He reaches up to yank the PacMan off his head, tucking it under his arm as he fumbled for his keys. Rain drips from his hair and onto his face, catching the streetlight’s glow every now and then. “Is that better?”

“Now you’re getting wet.”

“We can’t it both ways Keith,” Lance retorts, finally pressing the button to open the car.

The lion is the first to go into the back seats. They toss the rest of the prizes on top of it. Keith rushes to close the door, trying not to get anymore wet than he already is. His windbreaker and hood does enough to repel most of the water, but the rain manages to plaster a thick chunk of Keith’s hair to his face and small trickles of water run down his neck.

He reaches for his seatbelt. “Okay Lance, let’s--”

 

Only, Lance wasn’t in his seat.

 

Keith whips his head to the side and nearly jumps at his door opens again. He almost snorts at how pathetic that was, but instead, lets out a small embarrassed laugh under his breath. Lance sticks his head through the small gap he had opened and sticks out a hand, palm facing up. Some water drops from Lance’s fingers and onto Keith’s jeans, creating darkened spots.

“May I have this dance?”

Keith looks at Lance as if he’s insane. “What the fuck, we’re going to get hypothermia.”

He gives a small shrug, getting even more rain inside the car. “I say that whenever I go to your apartment, what’s the difference?”

“The fact that this is definitely not my apartment,” Keith responds, reaching over Lance’s shoulder to put his hood on his head. He pushes up his sleeve a little to wipe away rain around Lance’s eyes. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” Lance protests childishly. “Come on! Haven’t you heard of  _ ‘learning to dance in the rain?’ _ ”

“I appreciate the private lessons, but…” He lowers his hand to his lap.

“Do you trust me?” 

“Yes,” Keith responds automatically.

“Then take my hand,” Lance says. “After all, dance  _ does  _ rhyme with Lance.” A grin touches his lips.

“Well fine then,” he says reluctantly, finally putting his hand in Lance’s. “Just one.”

“That’s all I need,” Lance responds, pulling him out of the car. 

 

The rain isn’t as heavy anymore, Keith can tell, as he shuts the door behind him. Their hair is still sopping wet, but with their respective jackets and hoods, the storm becomes more manageable. The occasional drop or two hits his face every now and then, yet Keith is over complaining about it at this point.

Lance pulls out his phone to select a song. He tucks his phone away after a couple seconds, with the first strains of the song coming alive not too long after. Saxophone and gentle crooning fills the air. He hums along with the beginning of the song as he puts one hand hand behind Keith’s shoulder and gets him to do the same to him-- just a simple box step really. 

 

“Careless Whisper?” Keith asks incredulously.

“I will wholeheartedly defend this song to my grave.”

He huffs. “I’m disappointed.”

“Not all of us can listen to Evanescence on repeat,” Lance shoots back.

Keith rolls his eyes. “If we’re going with barbs about music taste, this is never going to end.”

Lance closes the distance between them and presses a quick, but gentle kiss onto Keith’s lips. He begins to pull away, but Keith follows his movements and draws it out for a couple seconds longer.

“Okay then,” Keith responds.

Gentle laughter shakes Lance’s body. “You say, but you definitely just stepped on my foot right there. I guess we’re just pulling out all the cliches today. All you need are the heels now.”

“Shut up, it was by accident!” He flushes.

 

They laugh a bit more before it dies out into a calm lull. The rain continues to pour around them, almost louder than the music itself, yet they pay no mind to it. Ripples explode in the puddles they step in, spreading out farther until it reaches the edges. Lance’s hood had been pushed off by the wind and Keith’s shoes are completely soaked, but all Keith can care about is the way Lance braces him against his body as if he’s a dragon greedily protecting his last coin, while all Lance can do is picture himself as Alice falling headfirst into Keith’s violet eyes. 

Always finding new things. 

Always in childlike wonder. 

Always on a confusing, magnificent adventure. 

Lance and Keith continued to sway for a bit longer, even after the last strains of the song dies out. Suddenly, the world tilts as Lance suddenly dips Keith. A kiss would have completed the moment, but it’s so close to the ground that Keith can’t focus on anything besides the gradual slipping, but before he can tell Lance to pull him up--

 

_ Splash! _

 

Keith falls, butt-first into a small puddle.

Although the romantic mood had definitely shattered and now he’s soaking wet, Keith doesn’t find himself angry at all. If being with Lance had taught him anything, it’s that sometimes things simply don’t go according to plan. Not that he’s going to allow this moment of teasing to pass though. 

“I thought you said trust you?” Keith arches a sassy eyebrow at Lance, who’s torn between embarrassment and shock.

“It’s the croissants Keith,” he says, helping him up from the ground.

“It’s your scrawny arms Lance.”

“How dare you!” Lance mockingly gasps, shaking a finger at him. 

He sticks out his tongue childishly. “I’m never getting you a fresh batch from the bakery ever again.”

“Wait, no--”

“Pfft, Lance it’s fine,” Keith laughs. A small frown quickly takes over as a thought occurs to him. “But if I get sick, I’m going to fucking kill you.”

He flinches comically.

 

“Yikes,  _ scary… _ ” 

 

 

 

The epilogue. Or well, the punchline:

 

Lance coughed loudly, rolling over to a cool patch on his bed. “This sucks ass.”

“It was your idea.” Keith shrugged.

 

_ “You didn’t even get sick in the end!” _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapterrrrrrr, and right after I finished s7 
> 
> Anyways, I hope y'all enjoyed and whatnot :))


	27. Asleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so short holy shit

Lance always complains about how empty Keith’s apartment is, but it’s only after he decides to sleep at his own place for the first time in almost two weeks does he truly feel the emptiness. Keith almost laughs at himself, remembering what he had said in defense.

_ ‘Minimalistic, my ass.’ _

He squirms on his couch, one of only three pieces of furniture he has in what he calls a ‘living room.’ It’s pathetic, Keith knows, but he never really found any appeal or need to have anything more than a table, lamp and the worn couch Shiro had passed down to him. There’s an indent in the seat cushions, making it easy to roll into his favourite position. Or at least, what was. 

He debates on moving to the floor, but his laptop is just so perfectly aligned to the couch that he decides to just tough it out. Keith sighs and glances at the time on the screen for the fifth time in a mere ten minutes. Lance promised that he would call right after he got back from Pidge’s, and while he had protested against it in the moment, he has to admit that he’s glad that Lance is too stubborn and caring to let the matter go just like that. 

That’s when Keith reaches a conclusion he hadn’t though he would ever make.

He’s become a stranger in his own apartment.

It wasn’t anything more than a roof over his head, but it’s bittersweet when he realizes it.

 

A familiar ringtone sounds on his laptop, and Keith rushes to answer it, refusing any further into the spiral of introspection. He taps impatiently on the beside the trackpad as the call finally loads up. Lance’s face pops up, filling up most of the screen.

“Hey! I just got back. Pidge kept beating me--”

“And so you kept challenging her to another round huh,” Keith finishes for him.

He groans, backing away a bit more from the camera. “I’m telling you, Pidge probably has world titles or something.” Lance perks up, smirking teasingly. “But obviously I crushed her in a couple rounds.”

“Was this with or without the handicap?”

Lance choked, “I’ll have you know--!”

A small laugh leaves Keith. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.”

“That’s what I thought,” he says smugly. “Anyways, are you sure you don’t want to sleep over at my place? I could even go to your apartment or something if you really want to stay there.”

As much as Keith wants to be with Lance in person, a part of him wants to see if it’s still possible to turn back, to live life solo-- to see if he can bear to live without Lance when it’s all over. 

He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

“You sure?” Lance still asks anyways. 

“Mhm.”  
He chooses to let it go. As much as Lance has a tendency to worry about the people he cares about, he knows that at the end of the day, their life is their life, and all he can do is support and understand their requests. 

The camera on Lance’s end shifts again as he finally slides under his covers as well. Keith can see one of his own hoodies neatly folded next to the pillow he normally uses and feels his heart ache a little again. 

“I’d ask if you wanted to do a challenge to see who could stay up the longest, but I have a feeling you’d win,” Lance says. His head is the only thing that peeks out from his fluffy comforter.

“Well that’s a given. Also, I had four cups of coffee today.” 

“A powerup?!”

Keith grins. “I’m unstoppable.”

“Well then, how about a movie?”

“As long as it’s not a crappy film.”

“But they’re funny!” A small pout makes Lance look even more ridiculous.

“There are only so many time one can watch Sharknado without losing a piece of their soul,” he retorts.

An eyebrow raises. “I thought you claimed you didn’t have a soul.”

 

_ Ah shit, that was right.  _

 

 

“Touche.”

 

* * *

 

It’s past one am when Keith finally shuts the laptop and leans over to turn the lamp off. With the door to his balcony open to let the cool night breeze and a combination of the mood and city lights in, he rolls over onto his back and stares at the ceiling. It shouldn’t be too long until he goes under. Today had been a long day after all. 

He turns again, back against the couch.

_ A stranger in his own apartment. _

Keith isn’t uncomfortable, if anything, he’s  _ overly _ comfortable. Maybe it was all the espresso shots, or maybe all the blue light scientists keep talking about. Something like that. Anything like that. Whatever the reason… he ends up staring and staring until he doesn’t know if he actually closed his eyes or if he had just spaced out...

 

 

 

It’s hard to fall asleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have way to many chapters dedicated to sleeping/them falling asleep somehow, so I guess this is like, the anti-chapter pfft. Anyways, my plan for this was completely different originally but I might do it for a future chapter maybe I dunno.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed :))


	28. Grow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoa? a chapter?

Lance wonders what type of insanity came over when he came to the decision that somehow, cleaning up his apartment would easily be done in a matter of one or two hours. 

This had been Lance’s ultimatum to himself before he went ahead with an idea had had been on the edges of his thoughts for a while, but it was proving itself to be an uphill battle. A mess of random trinkets, borrowed video game he forgot to return, half filled notebooks, crumpled assignment sheets, loose change, instruction manuals, and random photos taken over the course of years surrounds him, almost as if inching its way into his small speck of territory amidst large piles. 

Being sentimental is a terrible quality to have when there were things that need to be thrown out. Of course he needed that receipt from the time he and Keith went to Bed, Bath and Beyond-- that was a good memory! Pidge had already forgotten about the fact that Lance had borrowed Sonic for the GameCube, despite not having a GameCube to play it on, so obviously he needed to keep it, or else Pidge would probably begin to fine Lance every time he borrowed a game from her. He’s not quite sure what to do with all the change, but he’s sure that he needs it for something… maybe. 

To be completely honest, the only things he throws out without a second glance is all the homework and flyers he had accumulated in a drawer that had been stuffed to the point of bursting. Figurines and trinkets that he didn’t care about anymore were put to the side, maybe Pidge or Hunk would want them, and if not, he’d give them to his nieces and nephews, further solidifying his spot as their favourite uncle obviously. 

Lance doesn’t realize how long he’s been at tidying up his apartment until his stomach growls louder than Beyonce’s voice, and that’s saying something, considering Lance himself is singing along too. He had started cleaning up right after breakfast, and now it was 5 in the afternoon. He also should have noticed the dying light from his windows, but since he had shut them earlier just in case people from the street somehow saw him hopping around his room, it had gone completely unnoticed, unable to break through Lance’s concentrated headspace. 

“Okay!” He claps his hands loudly. “I definitely deserve food for my hard work.” 

(That being said, clearly ignoring the first couple of long ‘breaks’ he took to send Keith some memes while he was at work, and scrolling through Buzzfeed.) 

Carefully, Lance steps around the large piles he had made in various spots in his room… and he thought that the piles he made in the living room was bad. Lance takes a good 15 minutes trying to make sure he doesn’t step on anything important, or somehow fall into one of these precariously balanced mountains. With careful movements, he finds himself only one step away from the door, so close to freedom he could imagine a gust of air brushing across his face, and--

He fucking falls, and stubs his toe no less.

Sprawled on the floor, Lance sighs frustratedly. He supposes he should have seen that coming. It was way too early to let his guard down after all. Huffing, he gets up from the floor and rests on his knees. Lance searches for the offending object by burying his hand in the piles nearby, feeling for something that’s surprisingly solid considering most of the items in said piles are clothes.

When he pulls it out, a bubble of laughter springs from his throat. Is this what he thinks it is? Nostalgia and second-hand embarrassment sweeps over as he flips through the photo album he tripped on. Photos and moments he didn’t remember until now floods back to him, and it’s only a couple of pages into memory lane does a thought occur to him.

In the matter of seconds, he’s on a phone call.

 

* * *

 

Afternoon chill bites at Lance’s exposed face, but he doesn’t mind it so much. Fading hues of blue touch the horizon, settling into a peaceful calm. Keith had offered to pick him up on his motorcycle, but Lance opted to use his legs instead. While he loves the thrill of watching the city lights trail behind him, there’s a sort of magic that makes him so happy with just a simple evening walk. Lance could watch the world whirr on without him, an observer of the many different lives around him. 

Sometimes, he feels like the universe is right out there for the taking, only needing to stretch out an open hand to feel it reach out for him too. 

He lets out a small puff of air, watching the vapor vanish into the night. When he spots Keith’s small figure sitting on a bench with his arms wrapped around his legs, his grip on the photo album tightens for a second, making sure that he didn’t somehow forget it home. The warm glow from the lamp post shines on the small ponytail he pulled his hair back into and the messy bangs brushing against his serious face. 

As Lance draws closer to him, Keith looks up. A small smile spreads across his lips as he unfurls from his position on the bench. Since Keith’s ripped jeans covered his chest earlier, Lance only sees now that the sweater Keith is wearing one of his many NASA hoodies. Satisfaction shoots through his heart and he fights back a smirk of his own. 

Keith falls in step beside Lance, linking their pinkies together. “You know, I joke about our relationship being a middle school one sometimes, but I didn’t think you would actually take it literally,” he teases, recalling what popped up when he searched up the address on Google Maps. 

“B-but Keith, you promised you would hug me at recess!” Lance protests childishly.

Keith raises an eyebrow. “It’s past your bedtime Lance.”

“Touche. Maybe I should have written a note with yes or no boxes in advance,” he muses aloud as they cross the street. 

“Because  _ that _ would have changed my mind,” Keith says.

Lance tuts, shaking his head in mock disapproval. “Recess, Keith. You missed recess.”

“So why are we here?” he asks, skimming large billboard beside the school they’re fast approaching. 

“This was our-- my old middle school,” Lance says, pointing to brick buildings that seemed a bit older compared to the main building with the hand holding his photo album. “I met Hunk here, and while Pidge was at a different school, sometimes she would get bored of her advanced classes and popped in to attend.”

Keith blinks in surprise. “It sounds like something she would do, but how the hell did she get away with that?” 

“Transfer student? I don’t know; She refused to ever tell me.” Lance shrugs, rounding the corner, walking along the furthest side of brick buildings from the main building. 

They walk on trampled grass a little bit before stepping onto pavement courtyard at the back of the brick building, which Keith realizes is actually a classroom. He fights back a noise of protest as Lance draws closer to a built-in light up on the walls.

“I was cleaning up today, and I tripped on this piece of work,” Lance says, holding up a book in the light. He passes it to Keith, who takes it from Lance almost reverently. 

“A photo album…?” Keith asks aloud, flipping open to the first page. The first thing he sees toothy grin from a younger Lance holding a swimming medal up to the camera with younger Hunk and Pidge caught mid-jump in the background. Keith can’t help but smile fondly at such an adorable display. “Are these fetus Lance photos?”

“Yeah,” he grins with blush tinging his tan skin. He turns away after a second, adding almost as an afterthought, “I thought maybe you would have fun looking at them.”

Lance is right, of course. Keith resist the urge to pull out his phone and take pictures of the funniest ones. There are a lot of candid photos, he notices. Lance was a lively child, with page upon pages full of him in the middle of running or cheering. Keith hardly spots any photos where Lance isn’t smiling or laughing. 

He finds one of Lance and Hunk, arms around each others shoulders at the entrance of the main building of the school, feeling a small tingle of jealousy as he wishes it was him and Lance there for a second. Earlier years of his life were spent bouncing around, so he never really had a chance to make very many friends before he left. He even stayed in this city for a couple months, Keith recalls faintly, but had moved away before the year ended. 

He flips to the next page, and snorts when he sees a picture of Lance with frosting all over his face, a fistful of cake in his hand as his brother sports a look of glee. His flash goes off as he takes a picture. A perfect portrait taken right before a disaster, that’s what it was. 

“You’re still so adorable holy shit,” Keith cackles as he continues to look through the pages.

“I’m kind of scared of what you’re going to do with those photos” Lance laughs.

“Blackmail obviously,” Keith responds flippantly.

“Why would I expect anything different?” he says dryly. 

It’s only half-heartedly really. Lance knows Keith wouldn’t do anything bad with the photos anyways. Plus, it’s not the photos that concern him at the moment. He turns on his phone flashlight, realizing that it’s getting too dark for him to see what he’s looking for with just his eyes. Nostalgia comes back for a second round as he inspects the bricks for familiar penmanship. Lance no longer remembers where it is or if it would even be here after all this time, but he couldn’t go on a trip down memory lane without checking.

“Why’d we go to your school too though?” Keith looks up from the book curiously. ”Part of the experience?” 

“Hm, not really. I just wanted to see if…” Lance trails off, recognizing Hunk’s familiar scrawl. “Oh it is still here! Keith, come look at this!” 

He walks over, photo album in hand, and stands beside Lance, who points at spot on the wall. Faded lines marked different places up the edge of the bricks, small messy writing the only thing that distinguish them from each other. There were at least a hundred of these lines, some less pigmented than others, but all with tiny numbers and letters that marked the date and who it was. 

“We used to mark on heights every month or so. It was sort of a ritual, to mark passing time and how much we’ve grown, both figurative and literally I guess. Not that dates could really show how we grew personality wise, but it’s a mark that we existed in that time and in this place,” Lance says, lining himself up by the marks that only went up to about his shoulder. 

“Somewhere you belonged.”

“Hm, pretty much,” he responds, pulling out a Sharpie from his pocket. “Alright, I marked my height-- wow I was a pretty small kid. Now it’s your turn.” Lance waves the marker. 

“Me? But why? This was between you, Pidge and Hunk,” Keith says, furrowing his eyebrows.

“I’ve grown as a person, and you’re part of it. So, I’m going to mark your height too.” Lance gently lines Keith up with the wall. He stands up straighter to make it easier for him. He brushes away a few strands of his hair and makes the mark. “You know, you’re kind of short Keith,” Lance teases, resting a hand beside Keith’s head as he tucks the marker back into his pocket. 

“Oh shut up!” Keith wrinkles his nose, screwing up his face. 

“Hm? But that makes you the perfect height for this--”

Lance leans down, first kissing Keith’s nose lightly to get him to relax his face in surprise, then capturing his lips in a soft and kind kiss. It takes Keith a second to respond, but he pushes back a little. Lance nips his lip teasingly, making him groan. Keith can feel a smile creep across Lance’s lips and he pulls away, turning red. 

“That was corny,” he mumbles, quickly raising the photo album as a shield to hide his embarrassment.

Lance grins, ruffling his hair. 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Shiro picks up on the first ring.

“Hey, how are you Keith?” he asks cheerfully, as if Keith isn’t calling at midnight.

“I’m pretty good. Just got home. Lance called me out for a little field trip of sorts. One of those out-of-the-blue types of things he does. And before you ask, yes, I did eat. We went out for dinner afterwards,” Keith says lightheartedly, remembering Shiro’s habit of asking if he ate, more of a third parent than a brother. “How about you?”

“He’s got you wrapped around his finger huh,” Shiro laughed. On the other side of the line, Keith couldn’t help but flush crimson, thankful that Shiro couldn’t see him in person. “I’m good too. Been a bit busy with studying and training, but I’m used to it at this point. Any reason you called instead of the usual text? Not that I’m complaining, just curious.”

“Do you-- do you have any photo albums? Ones of me…” he mumbles the last part.

“Aha! I’ve been waiting for this chance for the longest time, you have no idea,” Shiro exclaims, sounding a bit childish in his excitment. Its times like this that makes Keith ask himself if Shiro really was older between them. “Some of your stuff from other foster homes had been saved too. There aren’t too many from the time before us, but if you want to look at the box of photos saved over, you’re free to come take them tomorrow.”

“Thanks Shiro,” he says simply, smiling to himself. “I’ll see you tomorrow then. Goodnight.”

“Take care of yourself Keith,” Shiro responds, fondness clear in his voice. “G’night.”

 

* * *

 

A knock sounds at the door.

“I’m coming! Just give me a second!” Lance calls, putting the last of the books from his pile on the ground back on its rightful spot on his shelf. He hops over the stray articles of clothes on the floor and brushes past his jacket hanging on his floor lamp. For a second, he wonders if he really should have called out that he was coming. What if it was a murderer? A robber? Or even worse, an alien?

Keith would have a field day if an alien kidnapped him.

One peek through his doorhole settles his admittedly irrational fears immediately. Lance opens the door, leaning a bit on the doorframe. “Oh, hey babe. Didn’t expect to see you here today.”

“Surprise?” Keith shrugs as best as he can with the box in his hands. Lance looks at it curiously, but doesn’t bring it up, allowing him to continue talking. “Sorry, I was going to but it slipped my mind.” He pauses, showing a bit of self-consciousness. “Am I interrupting something? I can come back if I showed up at a bad time.”

“Oh, no it’s not that. I thought you had work or something,” Lance says. He blinks as he realizes something. “Wait, don’t you have keys to my apartment? Why’d you knock?”

“Uh… to be honest, I went straight to Shiro’s this morning and completely forgot to bring your keys with me. They’re still at home,” Keith mumbles, a bit flustered at such a big oversight. 

“It’s okay.” Lance smiles comfortingly. “You can come in. It’s just that, I’m still not done cleaning, so there’s just a whole bunch of piles everywhere. It’s organized chaos, I swear, but it’s kind of embarrassing for you to walk into such a sloppy place,” he says, moving to the side to let Keith in.

He steps inside, looking down to take off his shoes. “It’s fine Lance, your apartment is just plain cozy. Doesn’t matter if it’s--” Keith finally looks up, taking in the counter of boxes for donation and several garbage bags on kitchen tile. He takes a small peek inside Lance’s room. Strangely, it seems much barer, although way messier on the floor, which he supposes is understandable, as he knows Lance tends to make bigger messes before cleaning it up completely. “Oh you’re right, that’s a lot of stuff.”

“Yeah, I told you!” Lance laughs, closing up some of the boxes. “Anyways, what’s in the box? Do we need some room?” he asks, turning his head to look at Keith.

Sunlight streams through his dark brown hair, turning some chunks of his hair into a warm caramel that complimented his tanned skin. ‘An angel,’ he thinks to himself, ‘with a heart of gold and a halo from the sun itself.’ Keith shakes his head slightly, knowing that even those words could not give him justice. Perhaps, just to say that all he can do in that moment is stare and marvel at such benevolent beauty is enough. 

Suffice to say, but it takes Keith a whole minute to get his bearings back.

“Maybe a little bit, if you don’t mind,” Keith says dumbly, finally remembering how words work again. He has to tear his eyes away before Lance asks if he’s alright, because, fuck, he’s really not. “They’re photos that Shiro apparently had compiled.”

“Whoa seriously?! That’s awesome,” Lance cheers, plopping down on the floor of his living room, completely bypassing the dinner table they could have sat at too. “Fetus Keith! It’s somewhere here! I’m already dying to use your baby photos as my wallpaper.”

Keith pads deeper into his apartment, sitting down across from Lance. “I’m not sure if there are any baby photos here anymore. There are more from when I was in high school, but maybe you’ll get lucky and find some middle school photos or something.” He crosses his legs and leans a bit forward to open the box.

There’s a lot more than Keith expects, but to be fair, Keith really only expected a single album at most, filled sparingly with one or two good photos, along with a handful shitty ones that were only there to make sure the pages don’t feel so empty. Instead, there are three albums, almost one for each year he lived with Shiro and his foster family, along with a stack of photos from the years before he went to live with them.

Lance reaches for the top album and begins to flip through, while Keith reaches for the stack of photos. Those years are vague in his mind, so he finds himself curious to see if he’ll recall anything funny he can tell Lance.

“You really were the emo kid huh,” Lance teases, holding up a picture of Keith with messy hair partially covering his eyes. He had been looking down at the ground, hands donning fingerless gloves and arms crossed across his chest. “Got to admit though, the eyeliner is pretty nice.”

“Oh shit, that’s a terrible photo,” Keith says, cringing away from it. He averts his eyes back to the photos he had in his hand. “Shiro’s a pro at eyeliner. I think that’s the only part of the photo I like… and maybe those ripped jeans.”

Lance grins, looking at Keith’s pants. “The ripped jean thing stuck with you huh.”

“Like you can talk,” Keith scoffs. “You probably had a--” he chokes on his words, noticing an old class photo with a very particular detail.

“What the fuck?” 

“Keith?” he asks, shifting towards him in concern.

Silently, Keith passes the photo over to Lance, who brings it closer to his eyes. He genuinely hopes that he’s just mistaken, because there is no way that this is actually a thing. Probably some sort of Mandela Effect or the universe just fucking with him. It’s impossible--

“Oh look. There I am. Wow, that really was a bad hair day,” Lance says casually, handing the photo back to him. Keith stares blankly back at him, shock written all over his face. “You’re giving me a weird look,” he points out.

Keith looks down at the photo numbly. His eyes drift back and forth between younger Lance’s smug smile and his very own frown until he realizes that he isn’t even really look at the photo, but staring off into the distance. 

“Why am I the only one freaking about this?” he finally manages to say.

Lance shrugs. “I’m surprised you just saw it now. I have that exact same photo in the photo album you saw yesterday actually. That’s part of the reason I called you. I don’t think you noticed it, but I did call it ‘our’ middle school by accident yesterday. Really, you were only there for a couple months, so I guess we both forgot until now.”

Keith blinks again. “Does that make us sort of soulmates then? You know, like the whole cliche with people meant to be finding each other again?”

He pats Keith’s cheek affectionately. “That’d be romantic huh. Don’t look too confused babe. I think the whole origin story we’ve got going is good enough already.”

Keith flashes back to when Lance called him ‘my lady’ by accident, and begins to laugh. Lance joins into too after trying to hold it in, an effort that was clearly in vain. 

“You know what, before any sort of revelation decides to drop me out of the sky again, we should take a break and actually finish cleaning up your place,” Keith says, standing up. He extends a hand to Lance. 

“You’re an actual lifesaver damn,” Lance praises him, grabbing his hand.

“I know.” Keith winks.

“Holy shit, a wink? I’m going to swoon.”

Keith joking blows him a kiss, which only makes Lance laugh harder.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tbh I'm kind of ashamed that it's been a full year and I haven't finished this story at all, but RL and writer's block just love to sweep in with their brilliant timing that screws me over so. Enough excuses really. Props to those writer who can update long chapter consistently. I don't know how that's possible tbh.
> 
> Anyways, I hope y'all enjoy this chapter. I'm finally down to the last three chapters, so perhaps it won't take leave months worth of gap between each ^^;

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo!! So this is my first Klance fic. All of the titles are based on Mossery's Inktober prompts because I can't draw to save my life, but I can write pretty decently so. The chapters aren't supposed to be super long either. (I will actually go down with this ship). This is gonna be a very cutesy story, but in aesthetic way (if that's even possible lolol)   
> I hope you enjoyed~! Any feedback, comments, whatnot is appreciated! :)


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